THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


BEQUEST  OF 

Mrs.  Marion  Kandall  Parsons 


THE    USURPER 


By  the  Same  Author 

SEPTIMUS 

THE  MORALS  OF  MARCUS  ORDEYNE 

THE  BELOVED  VAGABOND 

WHERE  LOVE  Is 

DERELICTS 

IDOLS 

THE  WHITE  DOVE 

A  STUDY  IN  SHADOWS 

AT  THE  GATE  OF  SAMARIA 

THE  DEMAGOGUE  AND  LADY  PHAYRE 


THE   USURPER 


BY 
WILLIAM   J.  LOCKE 


NEW  YORK :  JOHN  LANE  COMPANY  -   MCMIX 
LONDON  :  JOHN  LANE  •  THE  BODLEY  HEAD 


Copyright,  1901 

BY  JOHN  LANE 


HER  GEN.  LIB. 
ACCESS.  NO.    2.21 


GIFT 


JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


THE     USURPER 


CHAPTER   I 

IT  was  at  the  opening  by  Royalty  of  the  new  General 
Hospital  which  his  munificence  had  provided  for  the 
suburb  of  North  Ham  that  they  first  met. 

Jasper  Vellacot's  eye  caught  her  slender  figure  and  kind, 
serene  face  as  soon  as  she  drove  up  with  the  Member 
for  the  borough  and  his  wife,  and  he  wondered  who  she 
was.  In  his  character  of  host,  he  stood  at  the  top  of 
the  flight  of  steps  down  which  ran  the  conventional 
strip  of  red  baize,  and  received  his  guests.  Over  the 
shoulders  of  the  preceding  arrivals  he  watched  her 
approach,  curiously  interested.  He  shook  hands  with 
the  Member  and  his  wife,  and  was  introduced  to  their 
companion.  He  did  not  catch  her  name,  and  before 
he  could  say  anything  intelligible,  the  Mayor,  gorgeous 
in  robe  and  chain,  mounted  the  steps,  and  she  passed  on. 
After  that  the  Royalties  arrived,  and  henceforward  he  was 
in  close  attendance  upon  them ;  but  at  intervals  his  glance 
wandered  over  the  well-dressed  crowd  and  rested  upon 
the  woman,  and  the  sight  of  her  gave  him  a  queer  sense 
of  relief.  Once  or  twice  he  met  her  eyes,  and  fancied 
he  read  in  them  a  reciprocal  look  of  interest,  half  grave, 
half  humorous.  He  began  to  chafe  under  the  con- 
straint, to  wish  that  he  could  escape  from  the  gracious 
i  I 


M8&3753 


The  Usurper 

compliments  of  the  Personages  and  the  circumambient 
odour  of  flattery,  and  talk  quietly  with  her.  She  seemed 
to  hold  out  a  promise  of  restfulness. 

Up  to  now  he  had  been  keenly  interested  in  the 
hospital.  It  was  to  be  the  most  perfect  institution  of 
its  kind  that  modern  science  could  devise.  The  densely 
populated,  grimy  suburb  with  its  thousands  of  work- 
men's dwellings,  its  works  and  gas  factories,  had  to  send 
its  maimed  and  its  sick  whom  the  inadequate  local 
infirmary  could  not  accommodate  to  one  of  the  great 
London  hospitals,  miles  away.  His  gift,  therefore,  was 
of  incalculable  value.  He  had  taken  an  almost  childish 
delight  in  watching  it  grow  up,  brick  by  brick,  from  the 
great  concrete-filled  excavation  in  the  midst  of  a  ragged 
piece  of  waste  ground  to  a  noble  block  of  buildings  in 
a  pleasant  garden.  He  had  familiarised  himself  with 
its  infinite  details,  —  the  ingenious  intricacies  of  plan  ;  the 
complicated  ventilation  system,  worked  by  fans  in  sub- 
terranean regions  ;  the  electrical  installation ;  the  shoots 
for  soiled  linen  ;  the  laundries ;  the  operating  theatres 
with  the  latest  inventions  in  glazed-tiled  walls  and  in 
antiseptic  appliances ;  the  countless  new  devices  for 
saving  labour  or  securing  hygienic  conditions.  He 
had  come  there  that  day  full  of  pride  in  his  hospital,  in 
the  enthusiastic  group  of  physicians  and  surgeons  who 
welcomed  him,  in  the  staff  of  nurses  in  their  snowy  caps 
and  aprons.  He  had  even  surmounted  his  repugnance 
to  the  glaring  publicity  of  the  opening  ceremony.  But 
now  he  felt  a  too  familiar  sense  of  weariness.  He 
seemed  to  be  moving  in  a  world  of  importunate  shadows, 

2 


The  Usurper 

to  be  himself  almost  an  unreality.  It  grew  hateful  to 
stand  there  and  play  the  part  of  Philanthropist  and  Pub- 
lic Benefactor.  The  suave  tones  of  Erskine,  the  emi- 
nent architect,  explaining  arrangements,  as  he  conducted 
the  royal  party  over  the  building,  began  to  strike  pain- 
fully on  his  nerves.  Instinctively  he  looked  around  for 
the  woman,  saw  her  at  the  further  end  of  the  ward,  and 
felt  foolishly  comforted.  He  speculated  on  her  age. 
A  little  over  thirty,  he  thought.  Who  was  she  ?  Sir 
Samuel  Dykes,  the  Member,  happened  to  be  by  his  side. 
He  put  the  question,  and  learned  that  she  was  Lady 
Alicia  Harden,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Illingham. 

The  proceedings  drew  to  a  close.  There  were  a  few 
speeches.  The  title-deeds  were  formally  handed  over 
to  the  Mayor  and  Corporation.  The  hospital  was  de- 
clared open,  and  the  Royalties,  after  graciously  drinking 
tea,  drove  away  with  great  bouquets  of  flowers,  through 
the  lines  of  humbler  spectators  who  cheered  them  as 
they  passed. 

Guests  and  officials  crowded  round  the  donor  of  the 
hospital,  offering  congratulations.  He  spoke  little  ;  his 
attitude  was  deprecatory,  and  he  had  not  the  manner  of 
one  accustomed  to  large  social  gatherings.  He  did  not 
seem  to  concern  himself  as  to  the  impression  he  made 
on  others.  His  pale  blue  eyes,  hidden  deep  behind  over- 
hanging brows,  looked  on  every  newcomer  with  a  queer 
timorousness,  as  if  he  were  uncertain  whether  the  hand 
outstretched  would  greet  or  smite  him.  The  super- 
ficial went  away  saying  that  Jasper  Vellacot  was  a  limp 
creature,  with  no  individuality.  But  his  mouth,  long  and 

3 


The  Usurper 

flexible  and  firmly  pursed,  and  his  long  sensitive  chin 
gave  evidence  of  character,  and  the  rugged  lines  on 
forehead  and  cheeks  spoke  of  cares  and  past  struggles. 
He  was  still  a  young  man,  scarcely  forty,  but  he  looked 
older.  He  wore  the  conventional  frock  coat  and  silk 
hat,  but  his  clothes  had  an  unfashionable  cut.  He  had 
a  Sundayfied  appearance,  seemed  constrained  in  unfami- 
liar garments.  In  figure  he  was  tall  and  spare,  and  he 
had  a  slight  stoop  in  his  shoulders.  No  one  would 
have  suspected  him  of  being  a  man  of  boundless  wealth 
and  the  originator  of  vast  philanthropic  schemes. 

He  moved,  with  a  small  knot  of  men  with  whom  he 
was  talking,  from  the  vestibule  into  the  Board  Room, 
where  a  polite  crowd  scrambled  for  tea.  And  there, 
near  the  entrance,  stood  Lady  Alicia  Harden.  In  her 
eyes,  as  they  met  his,  was  the  same  half  grave,  half 
humorous  look  of  interest.  He  felt  irresistibly  drawn  to 
her.  Overcoming  a  natural  shyness,  he  turned  aside 
from  his  companions. 

"  I  hope  you  have  had  some  tea  ?  "  he  said  enquir- 
ingly. 

"  Oh  yes,  thanks,  one  of  your  nice  blue  and  white 
china  nurses  has  been  attending  to  me,"  said  the  lady, 
with  a  smile.  There  was  a  noticeable  pause.  Then, 
as  he  remained  standing  in  front  of  her  pathetically  help- 
less, the  smile  on  her  lips  mounted  very  pleasantly  to 
her  eyes,  and  she  continued,  — 

"  I  have  been  wanting  to  meet  you  for  a  long  time,  Mr. 
Vellacot.  I  am  sure  you  did  not  catch  my  name  when 
Sir  Samuel  introduced  us.  I  am  Lady  Alicia  Harden." 

4 


The  Usurper 

u  I  did  n't  hear,"  said  he,  "  but  I  enquired  and  learned 
afterwards." 

u  I  scarcely  know  whether  you  have  heard  of  me 
before,"  said  the  lady,  "  but  my  desire  to  meet  you  is 
quite  a  year  old.  I  have  never  had  the  chance  of  even 
seeing  you  till  now." 

He  thought  she  had  the  kindest  hazel  eyes  and  the 
tenderest  voice  in  the  world.  Her  light  brown  hair  fell 
in  soft  waves  over  a  high  forehead,  thus  modifying  by  a 
subtle  touch  her  appearance  of  a  woman  of  the  world. 
For  a  moment  the  crowd  vanished,  the  hum  of  talk  and 
the  clatter  of  china  died  away,  and  he  was  conscious 
of  nothing  but  the  sweet  smiling  face  before  him. 
Words  formulated  themselves  somewhere  in  the  back 
of  his  brain. 

u  She  is  the  one  woman  on  the  earth  for  me,"  they 
ran,  and  they  repeated  themselves  quickly  and  foolishly. 
His  eyes  lost  their  timorousness  and  grew  bright. 

"  I  am  a  happier  man  than  I  had  realised,"  said  he. 

"  Why  ?  "  she  laughed.  "  Because  you  have  escaped 
me  for  a  year  ?  " 

"  Because  of  your  interest  in  me,"  he  rejoined  quickly. 
"  I  hope  you  won't  lose  it  now  that  I  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  meeting  you." 

"  A  man  in  your  position  must  have  many  people 
anxious  to  meet  him,  —  people  with  beautiful  axes  they 
want  him  to  help  them  grind.  How  do  you  know  I  am 
not  one  of  those,  Mr.  Vellacot  ?  " 

He  smiled,  and  Lady  Alicia  was  almost  startled  at 
the  change  that  came  over  the  man's  face.  It  was 

5 


The  Usurper 

like  a  wave  of  sunshine  passing  over  a  rugged  bit  of 
rock. 

u  I  can  see  the  axes  hidden  under  their  jackets  afar 
off,"  said  he.  "  Every  kind  of  animal  is  gifted  with  an 
instinct  that  warns  him  of  the  approach  of  his  natural 
enemy.  In  your  case  I  have  been  wanting  to  talk  to 
you  all  the  afternoon.  I  really  have,"  he  added,  with  a 
quick  return  to  simple  earnestness. 

"  While  you  were  basking  in  the  smiles  of  Royalty  ? " 

"  I  am  not  used  to  this  sort  of  thing,"  he  replied 
with  a  vague  gesture,  u  and  I  feel  as  if  I  were  enjoying 
the  smiles  under  false  pretences.  I  can't  explain.  I 
should  greatly  have  preferred  to  open  the  hospital  myself 
quietly,  —  to  have  come  down  alone  and  received  the 
first  patients  transferred  from  the  infirmary." 

"  You  can't  expect  to  escape  from  the  vulgarities  of 
the  age,"  said  Lady  Alicia.  "All  we  can  do  is  to  try  to 
render  them  less  vulgar.  You  hate  advertisement,  and 
so  do  I ;  but  we  have  to  endure  it.  The  whole  world 
clamours  for  it,  and  we  can't  withstand  the  world,  can 
we  ?  I  see  Lady  Dykes  signalling  to  me  that  she  is 
going.  I  am  so  sorry.  I  wonder  if  I  dare  ask  you  to 
come  and  see  me  ?  My  desire  to  meet  you  is  my 
excuse." 

"  I  should  be  delighted,"  said  he. 

"  I  will  send  you  a  card  then.  Where  shall  I  address 
it  to  ?  " 

"  I  live  in  Gower  Street,"  said  he. 

"  Gower  Street  ?  "  exclaimed  Lady  Alicia,  involunta- 
rily ;  then  she  bit  her  lip  and  flushed,  realising  her  little 

6 


The  Usurper 

breach    of  good   manners.      But   it   was   an  astounding 
address  for  the  possessor  of  many  millions. 

He  smiled  one  of  his  rare  smiles.  "  I  am  not  in 
lodgings  there,"  he  said.  "  I  do  have  the  whole  house  ; 
in  fact,  I  have  two  knocked  into  one.  It  suits  me.  I 
am  fond  of  that  part  of  London.  My  friend  Erskine, 
the  architect  here,  once  said  that  there  was  a  Greek 
feeling  all  over  Bloomsbury  ;  I  suppose  he  meant  that 
it  was  restful.  Besides,  Gower  Street  is  near  the  Un- 
derground and  the  omnibus  routes,  so  it 's  very  conven- 
ient. Perhaps  I  ought  n't  to  live  in  Gower  Street,  but 
I  can't  help  it." 

"  You  must  forgive  my  rudeness,"  said  she,  holding 
out  her  hand,  "and  come  and  see  me  in  proof  of 
pardon." 

Sir  Samuel  and  Lady  Dykes  having  passed  out  into 
the  vestibule,  the  two  followed  them  slowly.  Jasper 
felt  prouder,  as  he  walked  by  her  side,  than  he  had  done 
all  day.  She  was  more  royal  than  any  of  the  Person- 
ages. She  had  a  stately  way  of  holding  her  head.  He 
noticed  that  her  ears  were  very  small  and  delicate.  She 
had  also  a  frank  way  of  looking  at  the  world. 

She  glanced  round  the  spacious  vestibule.  Through  an 
open  door  was  seen  one  of  the  sunlit  wards  with  its  long 
vista  of  white  beds. 

"  Noble  work  like  this  must  make  you  very  happy," 
she  said. 

He  regarded  her  wistfully. 

"  It 's  good  for  a  man  to  do  what  he  considers  to  be 
his  duty.  But  happiness  —  " 

7 


The  Usurper 

He  broke  off,  not  knowing  what  to  say,  scarcely  aware 
of  what  he  wanted  to  express.  He  could  not  tell  her 
that  these  few  moments  had  been  delicious.  Nor  could 
he  explain  the  burden  of  his  wealth.  It  would  have 
been  easy  to  quote  King  Solomon,  but  he  was  far  from 
the  phase  of  existence  in  which  all  things  are  vanity. 

"  It  is  happiness  to  hear  you  praise  my  hospital,"  he 
said  after  a  pause. 

"  I  do  praise  it  very  much,"  she  remarked  decisively. 
"  And  now  that  I  am  going  let  me  remind  you  that 
you  have  never  asked  why  I  wanted  so  to  meet  you." 

"  I  never  thought  of  it." 

u  Nor  why  I  asked  you  on  ten  minutes'  acquaintance 
to  come  and  see  me  ?  " 

u  No,"  said  he,  simply. 

"  It  was  to  claim  cousinship  with  you,"  said  Lady 
Alicia. 

"  Cousinship  !  "  he  echoed,  coming  to  a  halt.  The 
lady  smiled  and  nodded  her  head. 

"My  mother's  name  was  Vellacot, —  not  a  common 
name,  —  and  her  brother,  my  uncle,  was  called  Jasper, 
which  also  is  not  a  common  name.  He  went  out  young 
to  Australia,  led  a  wild  life,  and  disappeared.  Now, 
your  name  is  Jasper  Vellacot,  and  you  come  from  Aus- 
tralia. You  are  too  young  to  be  my  uncle,  but  it 
seems  absurd  that  a  Jasper  Vellacot  from  Australia 
should  not  be  his  son.  Therefore  I  fancy  you  must  be 
my  cousin." 

He  stared  at  her  for  a  moment,  and  his  face  grew  pale. 

"  I  never  knew  who  my  father  and  mother  were,"  said 
8 


The  Usurper 

he.  "  I  was  a  foundling.  I  got  the  impression,  from 
the  rough  people  who  brought  me  up,  that  my  name  was 
Jasper  Vellacot.  But  they  died  when  I  was  quite  a 
child,  and  I  fell  into  other  hands.  I  have  used  the  name 
as  my  own  —  I  can't  be  your  cousin  —  it  is  impossible." 

u  But  you  must  be.  The  foundling  part  of  the  story 
proves  it.  Besides,  the  romantic  is  always  true.  I  see 
no  shadow  of  doubt,"  smiled  the  lady,  moving  again 
with  him  towards  the  door. 

He  cleared  his  throat,  and  moistened  his  lips  with  his 
tongue.  "  It  can't  be,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice. 

"  You  must  n't  be  distressed,"  she  remarked.  "  I 
should  make  quite  a  desirable  cousin." 

"You  are  the  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Illingham," 
said  he. 

"  Father  is  entirely  respectable,"  she  laughed. 
u  We  '11  thresh  it  all  out  when  we  meet  again." 

He  accompanied  her  to  the  carriage,  where  Sir  Samuel 
and  Lady  Dykes  awaited  her.  Mechanically  he  muttered 
a  few  commonplaces  of  farewell.  The  carriage  drove 
off.  He  ascended  the  red-baize-covered  steps  like  a 
sleep-walker.  He  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  fore- 
head, and  his  lean  nervous  hand  clenched  the  handker- 
chief into  a  tight  ball. 

"  My  God,  it 's  horrible  !  "  said  he  to  himself. 

A  little  man  with  closely  cropped  head  and  a  face 
like  a  battered  bird's,  having  on  it  no  hair  save  two  wisps 
of  grizzly  moustache,  darted  from  a  corner  of  the  ves- 
tibule, and  regarded  him  with  concern  through  a  gold- 
rimmed  eyeglass. 

9 


The  Usurper 

"Jasper,  what 's  the  matter  ?  You  look  as  if  you  had 
seen  a  ghost." 

"  The  shadow  of  the  inevitable,  Tom."  He  put  up 
his  hand  as  an  expression  of  alarm  came  into  the  other 
man's  face.  "  No,  not  that.  I  have  only  found  my 
relations  !  "  and  he  laughed  mirthlessly. 

cc  I  never  knew  you  had  any." 

"  There  are  other  Vellacots  in  the  world  besides  me. 
One  has  just  claimed  cousinship." 

"  Well  ?  What  of  it  ?  "  The  little  man  looked  up 
at  him,  his  head  on  one  side,  bird-fashion.  u  Pull  your- 
self together,  my  dear  Jasper,"  he  continued.  "  Do  you 
remember  what  Lady  Macbeth  says  to  her  husband  ?  — 
4  Things  without  all  remedy  should  be  without  regard.' 
And  you  're  not  a  Macbeth,  Jasper." 

"  My  ghosts  may  come  and  sit  at  my  table  any  day, 
Tom,"  said  the  millionaire. 

"  If  they  do,  I  '11  eat  them  with  oil  and  vinegar. 
They  '11  be  of  no  more  importance  than  a  salad.  Now 
don't  worry  your  head  any  more  about  them.  Go  and 
shine  among  the  luminaries  who  have  come  to  do  you 
honour." 

He  patted  the  millionaire  affectionately  on  the  shoulder 
and  pushed  him  away.  Jasper  went  off  with  a  laugh, 
and  Tom  Cudby  watched-  his  retreating  figure  until  it 
was  hidden  among  the  people  pouring  out  of  the  tea- 
room. He  turned  to  a  nurse  who  was  leaning  against 
the  wall  near  by,  and  surveying  the  scene. 

"  If  anybody  asks  you  whether  you  have  ever  seen  the 
reincarnation  of  St.  Francis  of  Assisi,  say, c  Yes,'  "  he  re- 

10  • 


The  Usurper 

marked,  nodding  in  the  direction  of  Vellacot ;  ct '  observe 
him  with  all  care  and  love/  You  '11  never  look  upon 
his  like  again." 

"  I  hear  his  charities  are  enormous,"  said  the  nurse, 
interested  in  this  small  creature  whom  she  had  seen 
treat  the  great  man  so  familiarly.  "  You  seem  to  know 
Mr.  Vellacot  very  well." 

u  I  am  his  secretary,  and  my  name 's  Cudby. 
Doubtless  I  've  had  the  pleasure  of  corresponding  with 
you.  I  would  not  change  my  position  for  that  of  a 
Secretary  of  State.  Not  only  because  I  know  I  should 
make  an  awful  mess  of  the  State  —  I  'm  afraid  I  hash  up 
Jasper  Vellacot's  affairs  pretty  often  —  I  'm  not  at  all 
clever,  you  know  —  but  —  have  you  ever  served  an 
angel  with  wings  hidden  under  a  Jaeger  undervest  ?  " 

The  little  man's  head  comically  jerked  to  one  side 
made  the  nurse  laugh.  Then  suddenly,  being  a  young 
woman  to  whom  life  had  brought  certain  disillusions, 
she  grew  serious. 

"  I  would  give  a  great  deal  to  have  your  enthusiasms," 
said  she,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Give  yourself  the  trouble  of  calling  on  Mr.  Vellacot 
when  you  are  unhappy  and  you  '11  have  'em,"  replied 

Cudby. 

"  <  For  his  bounty 

There  was  no  winter  in't  j  an  autumn  'twas 
That  grew  the  more  by  reaping/ 

as  Cleopatra  says  of  Antony.  I  was  a  dead-beat  in  Aus- 
tralia, when  Mr.  Vellacot  met  me.  He  took  me  in  and 
fed  me  and  tended  me  when  I  was  sick,  and  clothed  me 

ii 


The  Usurper 

when  my  sole  asset  in  this  world  was  a  battered  six- 
penny Dick's  edition  of  Shakespeare,  which  by  the  grace 
of  God  I  've  got  to  this  day  —  and  then  he  was  nearly 
as  poor  as  I.  For  his  farm  was  just  black  dust  on 
which  nothing  would  grow.  And  he  watered  it  with 
his  tears,  and  I  with  profuse  perspiration.  And  one  day 
up  rides  a  man  who  happened  to  be  a  mining  engineer. 
Vellacot  bemoaned  his  luck  as  usual.  Nothing  would 
grow.  The  man  bent  down  and  examined  the  soil  in 
the  palm  of  his  hand.  c  What  the  devil  do  you  want  to 
grow  ? '  he  asked.  c  I  'm  a  modest  man,'  says  Vellacot ; 
'  a  blade  of  grass  peeping  up  there  would  send  me  crazy 

with  joy.'  c  Blade  of  grass  be  d d,'  says  the  man. 

1  You  silly  fool,  don't  you  know  what  this  is  ?  It 's  tin. 
You  are  the  absolute  owner  of  a  tin  mine.  You  are 
worth  millions.'  And  so  he  was.  And  he's  just  the 
same  man  with  his  millions  as  when  he  had  as  many 
pence.  Enthusiasms !  I  should  think  I  did  have  them. 
He  has  kept  me  by  his  side  all  through  —  as  useless  a 
beggar  as  ever  lived.  I  could  tell  you  stories  about  him 
for  a  month  on  end.  He  's  a  c  miracle  of  men.' ': 

He  screwed  his  gold-rimmed  glass  more  firmly  into 
his  eye,  nodded  in  a  friendly  way  to  the  nurse,  and 
went  in  search  of  his  patron. 

Meanwhile  Jasper,  as  soon  as  he  had  re-entered  the 
tea-room,  had  been  drawn  aside  by  a  military-looking 
man,  whom  he  recognised  as  Major  Sparling,  the  chair- 
man of  the  local  Conservative  Committee. 

u  Can  I  have  a  few  words  in  private  with  you,  Mr. 
Vellacot  ? " 

12 


The  Usurper 

Jasper  assented,  led  the  way  into  the  Secretary's  office 
close  by,  and  motioned  the  other  to  a  chair.  He  him- 
self sat  on  the  corner  of  the  central  desk,  with  one  leg 
dangling,  prepared  to  listen  to  some  request  for  a  sub- 
scription to  party-funds.  Those  who  solicited  always 
began  with  that  air  of  mystery.  At  the  moment  he 
took  but  a  languid  interest  in  the  politician.  Things 
that  mattered  more  to  him  were  filling  his  mind.  How- 
ever, with  a  polite  gesture  of  the  hand,  he  invited  his 
interlocutor  to  speak. 

"  I  must  ask  you  to  be  kind  enough  to  regard  what  I 
have  to  say  as  confidential  and  unofficial,"  said  Sparling. 

"  Quite  so,"  replied  Jasper. 

"  And  I  only  want  an  expression  of  your  views.  The 
point  is  this.  The  seat  for  this  division  will  be  vacant 
at  the  end  of  the  session.  Sir  Samuel  told  me  definitely 
this  afternoon  that  he  intended  to  apply  for  the  Chil- 
terns.  Of  course  I  have  known  for  some  time  that 
things  were  tending  that  way.  Ill  health  and  so  on. 
Anyhow  we  are  face  to  face  with  a  by-election  before 
next  session.  We  must  find  a  strong  man.  He  must 
have  local  influence  or  he 's  no  good.  The  radicals  are 
infernally  strong  down  here,  and  not  even  the  Diamond 
Jubilee  and  its  imperialism  will  carry  the  ordinary  Tory 
through.  In  the  event  of  our  Committee  inviting  you 
—  mind  you,  I  only  say  in  the  event  —  would  you  care 
to  stand  for  North  Ham  in  the  conservative  interest  ? " 

Jasper  Vellacot  rose  to  his  feet,  and  looked  at  Sparling 
long  and  steadily  beneath  his  heavy  brows ;  then  turned 
abruptly  and  paced  up  and  down  the  room.  It  was  part 

13 


The  Usurper 

of  his  scheme  of  philanthropic  ambition  to  enter  Parlia- 
ment. He  knew  that  even  in  the  House  of  Commons 
human  nature  was  such  that  a  man  with  the  power  of 
his  great  wealth  would  obtain  respectful  hearing,  and  he 
had  many  things  to  say  and  to  do.  An  hour  ago  his  re- 
ply would  have  been  an  instant  affirmative.  But  now  — 
He  stopped,  stared  out  of  the  window.  For  a  few  sec- 
onds the  world  had  grown  dim,  and  he  seemed  to  see 
Lady  Alicia  with  dainty  uplifted  palm  barring  his  way. 
Suddenly  he  turned,  almost  fiercely,  as  if  he  were  thrust- 
ing the  vision  aside. 

"  You  honour  me  greatly,  Major  Sparling,"  said  he. 
u  With  certain  reservations  I  should  accept  with 
pleasure." 

"  Might  I  know  the  general  nature  of  these  reserva- 
tions ?  " 

"  I  am  a  Conservative,"  said  Jasper,  "  because  at  the 
present  hour  I  can't  be  a  Liberal.  I  have  lived  my  life 
in  the  Colonies,  and  necessarily  I  am  an  Imperialist  to 
the  backbone.  The  time  has  come  when  it  is  n't  Eng- 
land, but  the  race  that  has  to  assert  its  supremacy  over 
the  other  races.  I  believe  therefore  in  expansion  and 
cohesion.  There  I  am  Tory.  I  am  Tory  in  my  dis- 
like of  such  measures  as  Local  Option.  The  Liberalism 
of  the  present  day  is  a  misnomer.  It  is  restriction.  It 
is  the  converse  of  Freedom  which  its  name  connotes. 
In  my  love  of  Freedom  I  pass  beyond  modern  Liberal- 
ism and  come  round  the  circle  to  Conservatism.  But  I 
approach  it  on  a  different  side  from  you.  Please  notice 
that.  There  are  many  things  on  your  programme  I  will 


The  Usurper 

not  accept.  I  know  nothing  of  Church  matters,  for 
instance.  My  only  training  in  religion  was  from  an  old 
Wesleyan  parson,  who  for  seven  years  fed  me  and  gave 
me  what  education  I  possess.  I  have  no  views  at  all 
on  the  question  of  disestablishment,  and  should  never 
express  any.  At  heart  I  am  a  democrat.  I  believe  in 
the  ultimate  triumph  of  the  people.  God  in  his  inscru- 
tability of  purpose  has  given  me  a  gift  of  wealth,  and  I 
am  devoting  that  and  my  life  to  the  service  of  the  peo- 
ple. To  give  them  the  means  to  procure  better  food, 
better  homes,  better  pleasures,  better  hopes;  to  pro- 
vide for  the  sick  and  the  weary ;  to  save  children  from 
slavery;  to  guard  women  from  Dante's  gate;  I  have 
soberly  and  irrevocably  given  up  my  life  to  this  work. 
I  take  no  credit  for  it.  My  Maker  and  myself  know 
my  reasons.  Should  any  constituency  select  me  to 
represent  them  in  Parliament,  what  I  consider  to  be  for 
the  welfare  of  the  people  must  come  first,  and  the  claims 
of  the  Conservative  party  must  come  second.  That  is 
the  nature  of  my  reservations." 

He  had  spoken  warmly,  with  some  excitement,  and  in 
the  rough  Australian  accent  that  was  absent  from  his  or- 
dinary speech.  Major  Sparling  looked  at  him  somewhat 
puzzled.  He  was  quite  different  from  the  shy,  reserved 
man  he  had  reckoned  him  to  be,  —  one  that  would  have 
voted  placidly  at  the  bidding  of  the  party  whips  and 
have  poured  unheeded  gold  into  the  party  coffers.  And 
Vellacot  spoke  like  a  man  conscious  of  his  power  and 
inflexible  in  his  designs  regarding  its  application.  It 
was  clear  that  the  constituency  would  have  to  go 


The  Usurper 

Vellacot's  way,  not  Vellacot  that  of  the  constituency. 
Sparling  tugged  at  his  moustache  in  silence,  wondering 
whether  the  subordination  of  the  wirepullers  would 
matter  so  long  as  the  gold  was  poured  into  the  coffers 
aforesaid. 

u  Am  I  too  uncompromising  for  you  ?  "  asked  Jasper, 
at  length,  with  a  smile. 

Sparling  slapped  his  thigh  and  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"You  are  a  man,  anyhow,  Mr.  Vellacot,"  said  he, 
"  and  that 's  what  we  want  here.  Pledge  yourself  to 
support  the  integrity  of  the  Empire,  and  the  House  of 
Lords,  and  that  sort  of  thing,  and,  as  far  as  I  'm  con- 
cerned, you  can  do  what  you  like  as  regards  popular 
measures.  I  have  your  permission,  therefore,  to  bring 
your  name  before  the  committee  ?  You  may  imagine  it 
will  not  be  a  novel  suggestion  to  them." 

They  parted.  Half  an  hour  afterwards,  Jasper  and 
Cudby  were  travelling  back  to  London  by  the  District 
Railway. 

"  Tired,  Jasper  ?  "  the  little  man  asked  after  a  long 
slience. 

"  Thoroughly,"  replied  Jasper.  "  Don't  talk  to  me, 
there  's  a  good  fellow.  I  have  several  things  to  size  up 
in  my  mind." 

Cudby  nodded  and  pulled  from  his  breast-pocket  a 
little  edition  of  "  Timon  of  Athens  "  with  text  heavily 
scored  and  annotated,  and  appeared  to  immerse  himself 
in  it  with  great  satisfaction.  But  every  now  and  then 
he  would  steal  an  anxious  glance  at  his  friend  who  sat 
with  wrinkled  brows  staring  in  front  of  him  at  invisible 

16 


The  Usurper 

things.  At  last  he  could  stand  it  no  longer.  He  bent 
forward  and  touched  him  on  the  knee  with  the  book. 

u  Jasper,"  he  said.  "  Damn  the  ghosts  !  "  Jasper 
started. 

"  I  was  wondering  how  many  votes  they  control.  I 
am  standing  for  Parliament  in  the  autumn." 

Cudby  thrust  his  "  Timon  of  Athens  "  into  his  pocket 
and  his  eyeglass  into  his  eye. 

"  The  devil  you  are  !  "  said  he.     "  Tell  me  all  about 


CHAPTER   II 

TT  was  half-past  nine,  a  few  days  afterwards,  and 
-•-  Jasper  and  Cudby  sat  at  opposite  sides  of  the 
library  table  dealing  with  the  morning's  correspondence. 
Letters  lay  in  long  stacks  before  them,  and  the  table  was 
covered  with  baskets  into  which  the  letters  were  sorted. 
Between  them  sat  a  young  woman  typist,  with  pencil 
and  note-book,  taking  down  short-hand  replies.  Enve- 
lopes strewed  the  ground.  The  post  was  immense. 
Circulars  of  every  trade  and  industry  under  heaven ; 
prospectuses  of  every  bubble  company  j  unsolicited  press- 
cuttings  from  every  agency  in  London ;  begging  letters 
from  all  over  the  empire,  some  genuine,  telling  piteous 
stories  of  want,  some  obviously  impudent  frauds,  the 
majority  doubtful ;  letters  in  scented  envelopes  addressed 
in  feminine  handwriting  which  turned  out  to  be  invita- 
tions to  subscribe  to  bazaars  and  charity  concerts ;  bills ; 
receipts ;  business-letters  from  architects,  solicitors, 
bankers,  stock  brokers,  secretaries  of  companies,  finan- 
ciers ;  invitations  to  public  dinners  and  functions ;  a  few 
invitations  to  private  parties ;  and  fewer  still,  pathetically 
so,  the  private  notes  from  friends. 

His  affairs  required  a  large  staff  of  clerks  and  agents. 
He  had  taken  one  of  the  adjoining  houses  in  Gower  Street, 
for  office  accommodation  and  thrown  it  practically  into 
one  with  his  residence.  And  here,  in  the  centre  of 

18 


The  Usurper 

things  he  sat,  controlling  everything,  working  from 
morning  to  night,  giving  his  personal  attention  to  the 
smallest  detail.  From  here  he  directed  the  vast  mining 
enterprise  in  Australia  and  the  petty  chanties  of  every 
day.  The  begging  letters  were  so  numerous,  it  is  true, 
that  he  had  been  forced  to  organise  an  enquiry  depart- 
ment to  report  upon  the  various  cases ;  but  he  consid- 
ered these  reports  himself,  and  delegated  to  no  one  his 
authority.  Then  there  were  hours  of  close  thought 
over  financial  operations  of  great  responsibility.  He 
could  deal  in  large  figures,  and  his  individual  buying  or 
selling  of  shares  affected  the  stock-market  and  thereby 
the  fortunes  of  unknown  thousands.  He  had  far-reach- 
ing philanthropic  schemes  of  which  he  alone  held  the 
threads.  His  interviews  took  up  two  or  three  hours  of 
his  day,  and  if  he  were  disengaged  he  denied  no  man 
access,  however  poor.  And  this  life  of  strenuous  and 
incessant  toil  was  the  life  of  a  man  worth  many 
millions. 

During  one  of  the  intervals  between  the  going  and 
coming  of  a  typist,  a  clerk  entered  the  room  with  a  tele- 
gram. It  was  a  cypher  cable  from  his  broker  in  New 
York.  It  ran  :  "  Rock  oil  new  springs  found.  This 
morning  120.  Acting  on  instructions,  sold."  Jasper 
tossed  it  over  to  Cudby. 

"  Will  this  avalanche  never  stop  increasing  —  will  it 
go  on  infinitely  ?  "  he  said  wearily. 

"  This  means  that  you  're  worth  a  million  of  dollars 
more  than  you  were  yesterday.  I  would  n't  be  sad  about 
it,  you  know.  After  all,  vous  Favez  voulu^  George  Dan- 

19 


The  Usurper 

din.  You  told  Odgers  peremptorily  to  sell  when  the 
shares  reached  120.  I  wrote  the  cable  myself." 

"  That  was  when  they  were  at  75,  and  he  was  wor- 
rying me  to  sell.  I  bought  them  at  40.  I  named  a 
fantastic  figure.  Told  him  practically  to  sell  on  the 
Day  of  Judgment.  I  know  these  things.  A  boom  to- 
day. To-morrow  they  would  have  fallen.  Next  week 
they  would  have  been  at  the  same  steady  price.  My 
sale  will  'bear'  the  whole  thing  down.  You'll  see. 
This  gain  of  mine  is  others'  loss.  Oh,  Tommy,  I  hate 
it!" 

"Well,  my  dear  old  chap,  you  can't  say  to  it  like 
Flaminius  in  '  Timon  of  Athens,'  '  Fly,  damned  baseness, 
to  him  that  worships  thee.' ' 

"  For  once  in  my  life  I  can  cap  one  of  your  infernal 
quotations.  You  were  reading  me  the  passage  the  other 
night,  after  the  North  Ham  affair.  He  goes  on  to  say, 
c  Let  molten  coin  be  thy  damnation.'  By  Heaven,  it 
has  been  mine.  There  was  a  heathen  king,  —  I  forget 
his  name,  —  he  had  the  gift  of  turning  everything  he 
touched  to  gold.  It  was  a  curse  on  him  for  his  im- 
piety. And  the  flowers  he  plucked  turned  to  gold,  and 
the  hands  of  friends  he  shook,  and  the  food  he  ate,  and 
the  wine  he  drank  turned  to  solid  gold,  and  he  starved 
—  I  read  it  as  a  boy  —  and  the  curse  is  on  me  for  my 
wrongdoing  and  I  'm  starving." 

"  Rot,"  said  Cudby.  "  The  royal  gentleman's  name 
was  Midas,  and  he  had  ass's  ears.  You  have  n't.  That 
makes  all  the  difference.  As  for  the  million  dollars 
you  can  easily  find  use  for  it.  Here  's  a  letter  from 

20 


The  Usurper 

Elaine  at  Rio.  Two  dead-beats  shipped  per  homeward 
steamer,  consigned  to  Jasper  Vellacot,  Esq.,  —  this  side 
up  with  care,  —  lest  all  the  whisky  should  run  out  of 
them  before  they  arrive.  You  can  divide  the  dollars 
between  them,  and  send  them  away  to  play  Trinculo 
and  Stephano  in  this  little  island.  They  '11  find  a  Cali- 
ban to  show  them  round  at  the  first  street  corner." 

He  turned  the  matter  into  a  jest,  glancing  in  his 
anxious  bird-like  way  at  his  patron,  eager  to  see  a  smile 
dispel  the  gloom  on  his  face.  It  was  his  constant  pre- 
occupation to  present  to  Vellacot  the  lighter  aspect  of 
things.  In  this  instance  he  was  successful. 

"You  are  talking  drivel  and  wasting  time,  Tommy," 
said  Jasper,  with  a  laugh.  "  Note  the  names  and  de- 
tails and  let  me  see  the  men  when  they  come.  Now 
ring  the  bell  and  let  us  get  on." 

This  "  Agency  for  the  Propagation  of  Wasters,"  as 
Cudby  irreverently  termed  it,  was  one  of  Jasper's  pet 
schemes,  which  he  had  been  able  only  lately  to  bring 
into  complete  working  order. 

u  We  have  been  wasters  ourselves,  Tommy,"  he  used 
to  say  deprecatingly,  "  with  no  one  to  stretch  us  out  a 
helping  hand.  We  Ve  been  there  and  know  what  it  is." 

For  want  of  a  better  name,  he  had  called  it  a  Repa- 
triation Agency.  He  had  appointed  agents  in  many  of 
the  great  parts  of  the  world,  Sydney,  Rio  Janeiro,  Hong 
Kong,  Cape  Town,  San  Francisco,  from  whom  dead- 
beats,  men  who  had  mistaken  their  vocation  in  choosing 
a  colonial  or  adventurous  career,  and  were  evident  for- 
lorn failures,  could  obtain  a  free  passage  home,  a  little 

21 


The  Usurper 

ready  money,  and  an  introduction  to  himself.  They 
had  to  be  British  subjects  and  obvious  incapables. 
When  they  arrived  in  London,  he  helped  them  and 
found  work  for  them,  and  put  them  under  the  kindly 
eye  of  his  little  enquiry  department.  Cudby,  in  a  teasing 
mood,  would  sometimes  rail  against  this  importation  of 
congenital  drunkards,  criminals,  and  idiots,  and  prophesy 
horrible  catastrophes. 

"I  myself  am  a  case  in  point.  You  could  get  a 
smart  young  fellow,  trained  in  business,  to  do  my  work 
infinitely  better  for  £120  a  year.  How  do  you  know 
what  latent  criminal  instincts  I  may  have  just  waiting 
for  occasion  to  develop  them  ?  You  are  too  confiding, 
Jasper.  You  think  that  there  's  a  good  solid  stratum 
of  the  angelic  in  every  ruffian  you  meet,  and  that  kind- 
ness is  the  way  to  get  at  it.  You  are  sitting  on  the 
highest  mound  of  the  Hill  of  Illusion,  and  one  of  these 
days  it  will  burst  like  an  egg-shell,  and  down  you  '11  come 
flop  and  hurt  your  spine  awfully." 

At  which  Jasper  would  smile  indulgently,  and  with 
the  wistful  look  in  his  eyes  would  thank  God  for  the 
illusions  left  to  him. 

The  morning's  work  proceeded.  Jasper  opened  a 
letter  from  Major  Sparling.  He  had  sounded  the  com- 
mittee. They  were  unanimous  in  their  desire  that  Mr. 
Vellacot  should  stand  for  North  Ham  when  the  vacancy 
occurred  ;  would  give  him  freedom  of  action  in  dealing 
with  the  proletariat,  consistent,  of  course,  with  constitu- 
tional methods.  He  handed  the  letter  to  Cudby,  who 
glanced  through  it,  nodded,  murmured  an  inaudible 

•  22 


The  Usurper 

quotation  from  the  Third  Part  of  "  King  Henry  VI.," 
and  threw  the  letter  into  the  "  private  "  basket.  Then 
he  continued  the  reply  he  was  dictating  to  the  typist. 
Jasper,  leaning  back  in  his  chair  with  his  hands  behind 
his  head,  went  off  into  a  daydream.  He  saw  himself 
standing  amid  the  green  benches  passionately  declaim- 
ing, working  the  House  up  to  rapt  enthusiasm,  sitting 
down  amid  a  storm  of  applause  and  cries  of  u  Divide  ! 
Divide ! "  Then  suddenly  he  leaned  forward  again, 
rubbed  his  eyes,  and  broke  into  a  laugh. 

"  You  are  wrong.  I  Ve  got  the  ears,"  he  said  across 
the  table. 

Cudby  looked  up  for  a  moment  perplexed.  Then  his 
quick  perception  and  instinctive  knowledge  of  Jasper 
came  to  his  aid. 

"  Visions  about  ?  "  he  asked. 

Jasper  nodded.  Cudby  pointed  to  the  mass  of  cor- 
respondence still  unread. 

"  '  Stay  we  no  longer  dreaming  of  renown, 

But  sound  the  trumpets,  and  about  our  task,'  " 
he  quoted. 

"  If  I  hear  any  more  Shakespeare  this  morning,  I  '11 
call  in  a  policeman,"  said  Jasper,  in  a  lighter  mood. 
And  as  the  typist,  having  got  her  complement  of  notes, 
retired,  he  rose  and  stretched  himself  and  walked  about 
the  room. 

"  Do  you  know,  Tom,"  said  he,  coming  to  a  halt, 
and  putting  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  "  if  things  were 
different  I  could  be  as  light-hearted  a  fellow  as  ever 
lived  I  Ve  longed  all  my  life  to  be  light-hearted.  In 

23 


The  Usurper 

old  days,  save  with  the  dear  old  parson,  poverty  made  it 
heavy;  now  wealth  does  —  and  other  things." 

He  went  to  the  window  and  looked  out  into  the 
street.  The  golden  July  sunshine  flooded  the  pave- 
ments, and  the  strip  of  sky  above  the  roofs  of  the 
houses  opposite  gleamed  gloriously  blue.  A  great  crav- 
ing for  happiness  welled  up  within  him,  a  desire  to 
escape  from  the  formalism  of  humanity,  from  the  con- 
straining streets  and  the  restricting  laws  of  conduct,  a 
nostalgia  of  wide  rolling  distances,  and  the  smell  of  the 
eucalyptus,  and  the  peace  of  a  soul  at  rest.  By  nature 
a  visionary,  by  will  a  man  of  action,  he  seemed  to  be 
maintained  stationary  by  the  continuous  and  equal  im- 
pulse of  the  two  opposing  forces,  like  a  ball  in  the  jet 
of  a  fountain.  That  was  why  the  superficial  judged 
him  to  be  a  man  of  no  individuality.  But  when  one 
or  other  of  the  forces  slightly  preponderated,  the  man's 
personality  leaped  forth.  He  acted  quickly,  definitely, 
masterfully.  Or  he  showed  himself  to  be  a  dreamer 
of  dreams,  an  inarticulate  poet  brooding  tenderwise 
over  the  world's  misery  that  he  could  not  relieve,  or 
yearning  after  its  loveliness  that  he  dared  not  clasp. 

He  gazed  at  the  golden  sunshine  and  the  radiant  strip 
of  blue,  and  he  longed  for  the  wide  rolling  distances  and 
the  smell  of  the  eucalyptus.  He  turned  away  with  a 
sigh. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  should  like  to  do  this  after- 
noon ?  "  he  said  meditatively.  "  I  should  like  to  go 
down  to  Kew  Gardens  on  a  penny  steamboat." 

"  You  can  reasonably  afford  it,"  replied  Cudby. 
24 


The  Usurper 

"  Perhaps,  if  I  get  through  the  letters,  I  may  go  after 
lunch,"  replied  Jasper,  resuming  his  seat.  "  Are  there 
any  more  that  I  need  see  ?  " 

u  I  've  put  them  in  your  basket  while  you  have  been 
street-gazing,"  said  Cudby,  rising  and  taking  up  the 
basket  containing  the  letters  with  which  he  was  to  deal 
in  his  own  office.  "  I  '11  see  all  the  cranks  who  come, 
so  that  you  can  get  off  on  your  treat  this  afternoon." 

Jasper  acquiesced.  He  would  be  inaccessible  to 
everybody  save  the  two  dead-beats  from  Rio  Janeiro. 
It  was  to  be  clearly  understood  that  he  made  a  point 
of  interviewing  all  the  dead-beats.  Cudby  winged  an 
ironical  remark  Parthian-wise  and  retired.  His  master 
turned  to  his  correspondence.  After  an  hour's  work 
he  came  upon  a  card  in  his  basket  he  had  not  previously 
noticed.  It  bore  the  announcement  that  Lady  Alicia 
Harden  would  be  At  Home  on  Friday  evening  a  week 
hence.  His  name  was  written  in  the  left-hand  top 
corner.  The  letters  R.  S.  V.  P.  were  below.  The  writ- 
ing was  dainty,  feminine,  characterful.  It  gave  an  odd 
air  of  strength  to  the  name  "  Jasper."  It  evoked  the 
woman  in  whose  presence  he  had  found  the  heart- 
rest  he  had  craved  for  many  years.  She  stood  before 
him  and  looked  at  him  with  her  kind  eyes,  and  her  eyes 
stabbed. 

He  took  a  sheet  of  note  paper,  wrote  thereon  that 
Mr.  Jasper  Vellacot  very  much  regretted  that  a  previous 
engagement  did  not  allow  him  to  accept  Lady  Alicia 
Harden's  kind  invitation.  He  addressed  an  envelope, 
closed  it,  and  threw  it  aside  for  post.  Then  he  resumed 

25 


The  Usurper 

his  work.  A  clerk  came  in,  collected  such  letters  as 
were  ready,  and  disappeared.  A  short  while  afterwards 
the  clock  struck  twelve,  and  he  knew  that,  by  the 
rule  of  the  house,  his  note  to  Lady  Alicia  had  been 
posted  at  the  pillar-box  outside  in  time  for  the  midday 
collection. 

The  thing  was  done.  He  was  glad.  He  would  not 
see  this  woman  again.  Intimacy  with  her  was  doubly 
dangerous.  His  life  had  already  been  too  much  the 
sport  of  the  irony  of  circumstance  for  him  not  to  recog- 
nise the  preliminaries  of  the  game.  Besides,  what  had 
he  to  do  with  high-born  women  ?  What,  for  the  matter 
of  that,  had  he  to  do  with  women  at  all  ?  The  love  of 
them  and  the  sound  of  children's  feet  in  his  house  were 
things  within  that  Paradise  whose  gates  he  himself  had 
barred  and  locked  ;  and  he  had  thrown  the  key  irrevo- 
cably into  the  abyss.  He  stood  outside  for  ever.  Yes ; 
he  was  glad.  Had  he  not  been  expecting,  with  some 
irritation,  during  the  past  few  days,  to  have  to  make 
this  decision?  Now  it  was  over  and  done  with,  and 
could  be  relegated  to  the  limbo  of  other  resisted 
temptations. 

Still,  when  he  walked  to  the  window  again,  the  sun- 
shine did  not  seem  quite  so  golden  nor  the  sky  quite  so 
blue.  And  later,  at  luncheon,  he  told  Cudby  that  he 
thought  his  desire  to  go  to  Kew  Gardens  on  a  penny 
steamboat  was  rather  childish,  and  that  he  proposed  to 
attend  to  some  business  in  the  city. 


26 


CHAPTER   III 

IN  coming  to  his  irrevocable  decision  to  see  no  more 
of  Lady  Alicia,  Jasper  Vellacot  had  not  reckoned 
with  rheumatic  gout.  That  so  prosaic  a  malady  should 
be  a  factor  in  his  romantic  destiny  (save  that  perhaps 
eventual  crippledom  might  place  him  beyond  the  pale 
of  romance  altogether)  never  entered  into  his  calcula- 
tions. But  when  a  man  sets  up  to  be  a  law  unto  him- 
self, and  disregards  trivial  things,  —  de  minlmis  non  curat, 
—  the  trivial  things  are  apt  to  assert  themselves. 

The  rheumatic  gout  was  slight.  He  had  been  troubled 
with  it  before  and  had  freed  himself  from  symptoms. 
But  this  year  it  had  returned.  His  doctor  prescribed 
baths,  and  mentioned  Aix-les-Bains.  Jasper  suggested 
Harrogate.  It  would  be  nearer  to  London.  He  could 
run  up  when  his  affairs  needed  his  presence ;  could  trans- 
act his  business  so  easily.  The  doctor  ordained  an  abso- 
lute holiday.  Jasper  still  stuck  to  Harrogate,  the  doctor 
to  Aix.  Cudby  supported  the  doctor,  quoted  the  in- 
efficacy  of  the  waters  of  Abana  and  Pharpar,  scolded, 
implored,  cajoled,  and  at  last  prevailed.  One  August 
morning  he  saw  his  patron  off  at  Charing  Cross,  and 
returned  to  Gower  Street  to  have  a  peaceful  time  with 
his  Shakespearean  commentators. 

So  Jasper,  accepting  the  inevitable,  went  to  Aix-les- 
Bains  to  cure  himself  of  his  rheumatic  gout.  He  put 

27 


The  Usurper 

himself  under  the  care  of  a  specialist,  began  his  prescribed 
course  of  douches,  and  for  a  time  enjoyed  the  change 
exceedingly.  The  little  town,  all  hotels  and  gardens, 
nestling  by  the  side  of  its  fairy  lake  in  an  amphitheatre 
of  mountains,  full  of  sunshine  and  idleness,  gay  with 
laughter  and  colour,  seemed  to  knead  the  weariness  from 
his  heart  just  as  his  shampooer  at  the  Etablissement  des 
Bains  kneaded  out  the  rheumatism  from  his  limbs. 
Always  modest  in  his  personal  expenditure,  and  some- 
what morbidly  shrinking  from  luxuriousness  of  life,  he 
put  up  at  one  of  the  less  expensive  hotels,  made  friends 
with  his  American  neighbours  at  the  dinner-table,  and 
enjoyed  the  pleasures  of  simple  companionship. 

Now  at  Aix-les-Bains  the  whole  of  its  afternoon  and 
evening  life  is  concentrated  in  its  two  casinos,  the 
Grand  Cercle  and  the  Villa  des  Fleurs.  Each  stands  in 
its  own  pretty  grounds,  and  the  grounds  adjoin.  When 
you  sit  and  sip  your  coffee  on  the  terrace  of  the  Cercle, 
you  can  watch  the  fireworks  in  the  gardens  of  the  Villa. 
When  you  have  won  money  at  the  baccarat  tables  of  the 
Villa,  you  can  run  round  in  two  minutes  and  lose  it  at 
the  Cercle ;  which  is  most  convenient.  Or  when  you 
are  tired  of  the  indoor  afternoon  concert  at  the  Cercle, 
you  can  stroll  across  to  the  Villa  and  find  a  crowd  of 
women  in  cool  dresses  and  men  in  flannels,  talking  and 
reading  under  the  shade  of  the  great  lime-trees,  while 
waiters  move  about  with  glasses  in  which  ice  tinkles  de- 
liciously  and  straws  stand  invitingly,  and  while  an  orches- 
tra in  the  kiosque  at  the  further  end  discourses  lively 
music.  With  characteristic  twinges  of  self-reproach  for 

28 


The  Usurper 

leading  this  existence  of  frivolous  peace,  Jasper  surren- 
dered himself,  as  we  have  said,  to  the  inevitable.  He 
went  on  excursions  in  the  little  old  paddle  steamers 
about  the  lake.  He  dozed  in  the  Villa  grounds.  He 
took  three  English  children  and  their  grandmother  for 
drives  about  the  country,  while  their  mother  went  off  to 
gamble.  He  found  unexpected  entertainment  in  fire- 
works. He  wandered  amusedly  around  the  baccarat 
tables,  and  grew  as  fascinated  as  a  child  with  the  eter- 
nally gyrating  little  horses  in  the  outer  hall  of  the  Cercle. 
For  a  week  things  went  happily. 

On  the  eighth  evening  he  stood  in  the  gaming-room 
of  the  Villa  watching  some  high  play  at  one  of  the  four 
tables.  The  heat  was  great,  the  air  charged  with  over- 
scented  femininity.  A  discreet  murmur  of  talk  filled  the 
room,  and  above  it  rose  the  monotonous  cries  of  the 
croupiers.  Each  table  had  its  crowd,  but  the  throng 
around  the  table  where  Jasper  stood  was  three  or  four 
deep.  The  spectacle  half  amused,  half  saddened  him. 
This  horrible  greed  of  money  moved  his  pity.  Here 
were  those  who  came  to  Aix  mainly  for  the  gambling,  — 
well-known  London  money-lenders,  keepers  of  gaming- 
hells  in  Belgium  and  Mexico,  elderly  women  in  cotton 
blouses  and  with  untidy  hair;  there  were  many  who  had 
come  for  the  treatment,  looking  as  though  they  had 
rheumatism  in  their  bodies  and  gout  in  their  souls. 
There  were  American  millionaires,  cool,  white-bearded, 
urbane  ;  American  women,  elaborately  costumed,  tapping 
their  hundred-franc  plaques  nervously  with  the  sharp 
points  of  their  pink,  manicured  nails.  There  was  the 

29 


The  Usurper 

ubiquitous  cosmopolitan  Hebrew  of  dark  and  devious 
finance,  bald-headed,  hook-beaked,  with  great  moustache 
helped  out  by  whisker,  with  hard,  evil  goggle-eyes,  in 
irreproachable  dinner-jacket,  with  a  hothouse  flower  in 
his  button-hole,  a  diamond  in  his  shirt-front  and  dia- 
monds on  his  hands.  There  were  Parisian  demi-mon- 
daines  stretching  out  over-jewelled  fingers  through  the 
rows  of  players  to  receive  the  red  louis  counters  handed 
up  from  the  green  cloth.  There  were  fresh,  laughing 
English  girls  in  simple  frocks  taking  their  innocent  fill 
of  the  excitement ;  there  were  clean-limbed  Englishmen  ; 
pretty  Frenchwomen  grown  for  the  moment  hawk-eyed, 
as  the  chances  of  the  game  wavered. 

"  You  don't  play,  Monsieur  ? "  said  a  girl  in  broken 
English  to  Vellacot. 

"  No,"  he  replied  simply.     "  I  am  afraid." 

«  Of  what  ?  "  she  laughed. 

"  Of  winning." 

The  girl  raised  her  eyebrows,  turned  away,  and  reached 
hastily  over  the  crowd  in  order  to  stake  a  louis  on  the 
hand. 

u  You  are  nothing  if  not  original,  Mr.  Vellacot,"  said 
a  voice  by  his  side. 

He  turned,  with  a  great  leap  of  his  heart.  There 
stood  Lady  Alicia,  smiling  serenely,  a  little  teasing 
shadow  hovering  over  her  lips. 

There  was  no  help  for  it.  The  unreckoned  rheu- 
matic gout  had  its  revenge.  He  must  either  pack  up 
his  things  and  escape  from  Aix  at  once,  or  he  must  put 
up  with  a  course  of  Lady  Alicia's  society.  For  Aix  is 

30 


The  Usurper 

really  only  one  very  big  hotel  where  everybody  meets 
everybody  else  a  dozen  times  a  day.  Vaguely,  dazedly, 
the  alternatives  passed  through  Jasper's  mind.  All  that 
he  could  do  for  the  moment,  however,  was  to  apostro- 
phise her  by  name  in  tones  of  astonishment. 

"  I  come  here  for  three  or  four  weeks  most  years," 
she  explained  calmly.  "  Not  for  myself,  but  for  the  sake 
of  my  aunt,  Lady  Luxmoore,  who  is  a  martyr  to  gout, 
poor  dear !  She  lives  with  me,  you  know.  When  did 
you  come  ?  " 

He  answered  the  conventional  question.  They  ex- 
changed the  commonplaces  of  opinions  on  the  charms 
of  Aix.  Again  he  felt  the  curious  restfulness  of  this 
woman  even  when  she  spoke  stereotyped  phrases.  In 
his  fancy  her  voice  was  like  the  murmur  of  many  waters. 
He  hated  himself  for  listening  enraptured.  She  was 
dressed  in  a  pale  rose-coloured  gown,  high  to  the  neck, 
set  off  at  the  bosom  with  impalpable  chiffon,  and  there 
were  roses  under  her  hat  nestling  against  her  adorable 
light  brown  hair.  While  they  discussed  the  chances  of 
baccarat,  he  wondered  why  on  earth  she  had  never  mar- 
ried; breathed  under  his  breath  an  impious  wish  that 
husband  and  children  had  come  between  him  and  those 
eternally  kind  hazel  eyes.  She  explained  her  presence 
in  the  rooms  that  evening.  She  had  been  dining  at  the 
Villa  with  the  Seagrims,  Hertfordshire  people,  her  neigh- 
bours, who  were  staying  at  her  hotel,  the  Europe,  next 
to  the  Villa.  They  were  over  there,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  table. 

u  So  you  don't  play  because  you  are  afraid  to  win  !  " 
31 


The  Usurper 

she  said  at  last.  u  You  might  lose.  I  don't  believe  in 
such  superstition." 

"  I  do,"  he  said. 

"  It  would  be  interesting  to  try  the  experiment." 

"  Whom  could  it  possibly  interest  ?  " 

"  Me,"  said  Lady  Alicia. 

The  banker  at  that  moment  retired ;  whether  he  had 
won  or  lost  neither  could  say.  The  croupier  was  crying 
the  auction  of  the  bank. 

"Why  not  take  this  bank?"  asked  Lady  Alicia. 
«  Do." 

The  bank  was  going  for  five  hundred  louis.  He 
cried  six.  The  bank  was  adjudged  to  him.  An  Ameri- 
can railroad  magnate  recognised  him,  and  whispered  to 
his  neighbour  that  he  was  Jasper  Vellacot  the  Australian 
millionaire.  Like  an  electric  flash  the  news  went  round 
the  crowded  table.  The  American  called  banco.  The 
cards  were  dealt.  Jasper  won.  A  murmur  went  round. 
There  were  heavy  stakes  in  the  punt,  the  sum  in  the 
bank  made  up.  Jasper  won  on  both  hands.  The 
croupier  with  his  flat  spoon  lifted  all  the  stakes  into 
the  bank.  The  cards  were  dealt  again.  Jasper  won 
again.  He  won  six  times  running.  An  enormous 
sum  was  in  the  bank.  The  cosmopolitan  Hebrew 
happened  to  hold  the  hand  for  his  side  of  the  table. 
He  staked  the  maximum.  There  was  breathless  ex- 
citement as  Vellacot  looked  at  his  cards  and  then 
threw  down  a  nine,  the  winning  number.  He  rose, 
gathered  his  winnings  into  the  lacquered  dish,  and 
changed  them  for  thousand-franc  bank  notes  at  the 

32 


The  Usurper 

counter.  He  came  up  to  Lady  Alicia  with  a  weary 
expression. 

"  Are  you  interested  in  any  charities  ?  "  he  asked 
her. 

"Many.  I  am  on  the  committee  of  the  'Officers* 
Widows  Benevolent,'  for  instance." 

"Then  let  me  implore  you  use  this  for  me  as  you 
think  best,"  he  cried,  thrusting  the  notes  into  her  hand. 
cc  No,  no  —  you  must.  It  was  you  who  made  me  play. 
I  hate  it.  I  am  a  sort  of  magnet  for  gold.  You  can't 
understand  how  horrible  it  is.  I  should  win  on  a  mil- 
lion to  one  chance.  It  is  more  than  a  superstition  \  it 
is  a  doom.  For  Heaven's  sake,  give  it  to  your  officers' 
widows,  Lady  Alicia,  or  to  whom  you  will." 

She  had  refused  at  first.  But  the  man,  speaking 
quickly  in  low  tones,  looked  almost  haggard  in  his 
earnestness. 

"  I  accept  —  gratefully,"  she  replied,  putting  the  notes 
in  the  rose-coloured  satchel  slung  at  her  wrist. 

"  Will  you  come  outside  for  a  little  ? "  he  asked. 
"  It  is  suffocating  here." 

She  assented,  and  they  went  out  into  the  small 
garden  at  the  back  of  the  gaming-rooms  and  sepa- 
rated from  them  by  a  narrow  terrace.  The  garden 
was  deserted.  The  cane  armchairs  and  tables  gleamed 
in  the  starlight.  From  the  terrace  came  the  sound  of 
women's  voices  and  laughter ;  through  the  open  doorway 
beyond,  a  brilliant  aperture  of  light  and  moving  colour, 
came  faintly  the  cries  of  the  croupiers. 

"  I  was  wrong  to  have  made  you  play,"  said  Lady 
3  33 


The  Usurper 

Alicia,  softly.  "  I  never  thought  that  these  things  could 
affect  anyone  so  deeply.  You  must  forgive  an  idle 
woman  in  a  light  mood  for  not  checking  her  caprices. 
The  atmosphere  of  that  horrid  room  demoralises  one. 
You  do  forgive  me  ?  " 

What  could  he  answer  ?  Plenary  absolution  mumbled 
apologetically  was  given.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  ex- 
plained, his  unvarying  luck  had  got  on  his  nerves. 
There  was  in  it  something  uncanny,  necromantic. 

u  Like  the  horrible  luck  of  a  man  who  has  sold  him- 
self to  the  devil,"  he  said  on  a  sudden  impulse. 

Lady  Alicia  shivered  a  little.  She  had  lived  all  her 
life  among  well-to-do  people ;  she  herself  had  inherited 
an  ample  fortune.  She  had  met  millionaires  upon  whom 
the  burden  of  wealth  sat  lightly,  who  took  the  most 
human  interest  in  the  making  of  money.  There  was 
Judge  Blenkinson  of  Chicago,  colossally  rich,  —  he  was 
standing  even  now  at  the  doorway  rattling  his  chips  in 
his  hand,  —  who  was  as  delighted  as  a  boy  when  he  had 
won  twenty  francs.  But  she  had  never  come  across  a 
man  like  Vellacot  before  ;  his  point  of  view  was  original, 
brought  into  sight  startling  possibilities. 

The  sincerity  of  his  tone  touched  her.  The  man 
was,  in  a  certain  sense,  a  pathetic  figure.  Lady  Alicia 
knew  that  she  passed  among  her  friends  for  a  sympa- 
thetic woman,  and  she  took  a  delicate  pleasure  in  acting 
up  to  her  reputation.  She  was  fond  of  sheltering  the 
unfortunate  under  the  white  wing  of  her  pity,  glancing 
down  graciously  now  and  then  to  see  how  they  did ;  to 
add  this  multi-millionaire  with  mediaeval  superstitions 

34 


The  Usurper 

to  the  number  was  a  temptation.     She  rested  her  chin 
on  her  ungloved  hand  and  reflected  before  she  spoke. 

"  I  think  I  understand,"  she  said.  "  You  feel  that 
all  this  wealth  coming  to  one  individual  is  not  in  the 
kindly  order  of  things  —  that  it  marks  you  as  a  man 
apart  —  separates  you  from  your  kind  —  sets  some  sort 
of  brand  upon  you." 

"Yes,  yes.     That  is  just  it,"  he  said  eagerly. 

"If  there  is  a  supernatural  agency  at  work,  why 
should  n't  it  be  divine  instead  of  diabolical  ?  Look  at 
the  enormous  amount  of  human  suffering  you  are  able 
to  relieve.  And  as  for  the  isolation,  every  man  and 
woman  who  fulfils  a  great  mission  must  stand  alone  to 
a  certain  extent."  Then,  conscious  of  the  danger  of 
platitude,  she  shifted  her  position  and  changed  to  a  lighter 
key.  "  But  after  all,  you  know,"  she  added  with  a 
laugh,  "  you  will  find  lots  of  people  who  will  be  glad 
to  be  nice  and  kind  to  you  and  to  help  you  along  your 
way.  Only  you  must  not  refuse  all  their  invitations." 

"  I  have  only  had  one,  which  I  was  unfortunately 
obliged  to  decline,"  replied  Jasper,  making  the  best  of  it. 

u  Is  that  a  reproach  ? "  she  asked  good-humouredly. 

"  It  is  a  regret." 

"  And  a  promise  by  implication  ?  " 

"  How  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  "  he  answered  politely. 

"  I  seldom  have  great  crushes,"  she  explained.  "  My 
At  Homes  are  quite  small  affairs,  —  a  few  friends  who  I 
hope  learn  to  like  each  other.  But  perhaps  I  was  auda- 
cious in  asking  you,  you  must  be  sought  after  by  so 
many." 

35 


The  Usurper 

"  I  go  out  very  little,"  he  said  simply.  u  I  have  n't 
many  friends.  You  see  —  I  have  enough  knowledge  of 
the  world  to  know,  and  I  can  say  it  without  fatuity  —  I 
could  be  lionised  if  I  liked.  But  what  is  the  good  ?  If 
it  were  for  the  sake  of  my  brilliant  intellect,  my  artistic 
powers,  my  personal  charm,  I  should  feel  flattered  per- 
haps. At  any  rate  it  would  be  a  tribute  to  something 
intrinsic  in  me.  But  simply  to  stalk  around  drawing- 
rooms  to  show  myself  off  in  a  suit  of  gold  armour  —  no. 
I  neither  think  what  these  people  think,  nor  feel  what 
they  feel,  nor  hope  what  they  hope.  They  are  glittering 
beings  out  of  my  world.  And  humbler  people  —  well, 
they  're  afraid  of  me  somehow." 

"  My  friendship  is  not  worth  much,"  said  Lady  Alicia, 
gently.  u  But  if  you  care  to  accept  it,  it  is  yours  —  in 
all  frankness." 

She  rose  and  stood  in  a  stately  attitude,  as  he  leaped  to 
his  feet.  The  stars  were  dazzling  in  the  velvet  black- 
ness of  the  sky.  Her  eyes  seemed  to  catch  the  soft 
mystery  of  the  starlight.  Again  he  came  beneath  their 
spell. 

"  I  have  n't  a  woman  friend  in  the  wide  world,"  said 
he,  holding  out  his  hand. 

They  said  no  more,  but  went  into  the  rooms,  where 
the  Seagrims  joined  them.  He  was  a  red-nosed,  pale- 
eyed,  hunting  English  squire ;  she  a  faded  lady  who  had 
once  been  pretty.  Introductions  were  effected ;  com- 
monplace civilities  interchanged.  As  Jasper  walked  up 
to  his  hotel  alone,  he  wondered  what  companionship  a 
bird  of  paradise  could  find  among  crows, —  good,  honest 

36 


The  Usurper 

birds,  basing  all  their  actions  upon  the  most  respectable 
of  corvine  traditions,  but  plain,  common  crows  all  the 
same.  And  he  put  it  down  to  the  infinite,  tender  sym- 
pathy of  the  bird  of  paradise. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  a  daily  comradeship.  He 
was  brought  into  her  circle  of  friends,  as  a  matter  of 
course  was  included  in  arrangements  for  excursions, 
dinners,  little  festivities.  He  hired  a  carriage  for  the 
Battle  of  Flowers,  and  took  in  it  Lady  Alicia,  her  aunt, 
and  the  Seagrims,  Seagrim  sitting  on  the  box-seat.  He 
filled  the  vehicle  with  nosegays,  and  losing  himself  in 
the  childish  sport  (Lady  Alicia  with  flushed  cheeks  and 
hair  adorably  ruffled  was  sitting  opposite),  became  as 
gay  as  any  fresh,  laughing  girl  who  pelted  him  from  the 
stands. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  have  made  a  dismal  idiot  of  myself," 
he  said,  in  comic  deprecation,  as  they  parted. 

"  You  have  been  DELIGHTFUL,"  replied  Lady  Alicia. 

All  this  was  wrong.  He  knew  it.  His  conscience 
ached  with  hourly  questionings.  By  what  right  was  he 
making  merry  in  this  frivolous  little  town  ?  By  what 
right  was  he  resting  in  the  sweet  presence  of  this 
woman  ?  But  his  iron  bands  of  self-repression  had 
burst  and  he  could  not  rivet  them  again.  Life,  colour, 
gaiety  were  thrust  before  him,  and  his  starved  heart 
took  its  fill.  When  he  went,  of  afternoons,  into  the 
grounds  of  the  Villa,  and  his  eye,  with  astounding  in- 
stinct, rested  upon  the  skirt  of  her  dress  and  the  top  of 
her  hat  as  she  sat  in  a  cane  armchair  with  her  back 
towards  him,  something  new  and  strange,  like  a  bird, 

37 


The  Usurper 

fluttered  within  him,  and  he  approached  with  a  fearful 
joy.  It  was  wrong.  Yet  what  could  he  do?  To 
leave  Aix  was  to  leave  his  cure  unaccomplished.  If  in 
the  pantheistic  hierarchy  there  is  a  god  of  rheumatic 
gout,  he  must  have  hugged  himself  in  much  sardonic 
amusement.  Jasper  stayed.  Lady  Alicia  was  as  rest- 
ful as  he  had  imagined  her  to  be  when  he  had  first 
seen  her  at  North  Ham.  She  had  the  woman's  quick 
intuition  of  the  soothing,  understanding,  or  inspiriting 
thing  to  say.  He  gave  her  his  confidence  like  a  boy, 
sketched  out  his  great  philanthropic  schemes,  discussed 
his  chances  at  the  by-election  next  month  against  the 
Radical  candidate.  Lady  Alicia  professed  great  interest 
in  the  election.  She  liked  his  position  of  Tory  Democrat. 
It  appealed  to  her  own  temperament.  She  construed 
it  into  a  standpoint  remote  from  the  great  unwashed, 
whence  he  could  look  down  upon  them  with  broad  be- 
nignance,  scattering  untold  blessings  the  while  upon 
their  heads.  It  would  be  playing  her  own  favourite  part 
of  Deputy  Providence.  Unaccustomed  to  search  the  by- 
ways of  a  woman's  mind,  he  did  not  perceive  the  falla- 
cious reasons  for  her  political  sympathy ;  which  was 
just  as  well,  since  perception  might  have  caused  him 
disappointment  in  his  Egeria.  As  it  was,  her  interest 
charmed  and  inspired  him. 

"  You  are  looking  a  different  man  from  what  you 
were  in  London,"  she  said  one  day. 

The  change  was  not  entirely  due  to  the  grey  flannel 
suit,  brown  shoes,  and  alpine  hat,  which  became  him 
more  than  the  awkwardly  worn  frock-coat. 


The  Usurper 

"  You  look  happier  and  brighter,"  she  continued. 

"  A  holiday  is  good  for  everyone,"  said  he. 

"  I  hate  this  place,  in  a  general  way,  but  I  '11  feel 
kindly  disposed  towards  it  for  having  benefited  you  so 
much." 

"  That  is  sweet  of  you,"  said  he,  smiling.  "  To  me 
it  has  been  a  little  Eden." 

"  Forbidden  fruit  and  all  ?  " 

"  I  am  afraid  I  have  been  living  on  nothing  else  since 
—  since  I  came." 

"  Now  who  forbids  it  you  ?  "  she  asked,  unconscious 
of  the  little  break  in  his  last  remark. 

"  Who  but  himself  can  forbid  a  man  anything  ?  "  he 
replied.  "  Who  but  myself  can  forbid  me  to  slay  this 
waiter  who  I  see  is  bringing  us  milk  with  our  tea  when 
I  ordered  lemons  ?  " 

He  stepped  agilely  back  from  the  edge  of  perilous 
depths  to  the  rippling  shallows. 

"I  refuse  to  be  metaphysical,"  said  Lady  Alicia,  look- 
ing inside  the  teapot.  u  Can  you  tell  from  inspection 
the  difference  between  China  tea  and  Ceylon  tea  ? " 

He  joined  in  the  examination  of  the  teapot.  His 
face  was  close  to  hers.  The  moment's  intimacy  was 
very  sweet. 

"  For  if  it 's  China,  we  '11  have  the  lemons,  and  if  it 's 
Ceylon,  the  milk,"  she  added. 

"  I  'm  afraid  it  's  a  mixture,"  said  he.  And  they 
both  laughed  at  the  problem  presented. 

The  milk  was  retained.  The  waiter  departed.  Lady 
Alicia  poured  out  the  tea.  Her  white  fingers  holding  a 

39 


The  Usurper 

square  of  sugar  hovered  enquiringly  over  his  cup  before 
they  dropped  it  in.  Fingers  and  sugar  and  tea  and  all 
were  forbidden  fruit ;  only  he  dared  not  tell  her  so.  To 
change  the  topic,  he  took  from  the  table  a  slender 
volume  backed  with  parchment,  which  she  had  brought 
with  her,  and  opened  it. 

"  I  saw  quite  an  enthusiastic  review  of  this  in  'The 
Times '  yesterday,"  said  he. 

"  Did  you  really  ?  "  she  cried  eagerly.  "  You  must 
show  it  to  me.  Bunny  will  be  so  glad  —  that  is 
Bonamy  Tredgold.  He  's  a  dear  fellow.  One  of  my 
great  friends.  Everyone  calls  him  Bunny.  He  was 
born  so.  I  can't  help  feeling  that  he  is  going  to  be  a 
great  poet,  —  a  very  great  poet.  '  The  Times '  has 
taken  six  months  to  review  the  book,  though,  which  is 
very  unfair." 

Lady  Alicia  sipped  her  tea,  as  if  to  soothe  her  resent- 
ment. Jasper's  eye  caught  a  lyric  printed  on  one  page. 
He  read  it  through.  An  elusive  thought  in  it  caused 
him  to  re-read.  Then,  grasping  the  meaning,  he  felt  as 
if  a  message  had  come  to  him  from  regions  far  away. 
The  lines  lingered  in  his  mind  with  a  haunting  sense  of 
the  sound  of  sea-shells  and  the  moan  of  the  sea.  He 
looked  up  at  Lady  Alicia  and  met  eyes  full  of  expectancy. 

"  The  man  who  wrote  that  is  already  a  great  poet," 
said  he,  surprised  at  the  little  emotional  catch  in  his 
voice  as  he  handed  her  the  open  book. 

"  Oh,  I  am  glad  you  think  so,  —  gladder  than  you  can 
imagine,"  she  cried,  with  a  flush  in  her  cheeks.  "This 
lyric  is  beautiful.  It  is  one  of  my  favourites.  I  love 

40 


The  Usurper 

his  work  because  it  is  so  sane,  the  work  of  a  clear  healthy 
mind.  There  is  nothing  morbid  or  decadent  about 
Bunny." 

"  How  old  is  he  ?  "  asked  Jasper. 

Lady  Alicia  poured  him  out  another  cup  of  tea.  "  I 
am  afraid  he  is  quite  young,"  she  said,  helping  him  to 
sugar. 

"  Afraid  ?  "  he  echoed.  «  But  we  should  be  glad. 
Fancy  what  it  means !  To  be  young,  and  a  poet ;  to 
have  all  the  glory  of  the  world  inside  one's  soul  and  to 
be  twenty  !  what  can  man  ask  more  of  God  ?  " 

"  Bunny  is  very  poor,"  said  Lady  Alicia. 

"  I  would  give  ten  years  of  my  life  for  an  hour  of 
his,"  said  Jasper.  "  I  have  read  very  little  poetry,  I  'm 
ashamed  to  confess.  It  has  n't  come  my  way.  But  I 
have  a  curious  reverence  for  the  great  poet.  A  curious 
reverence,"  he  repeated,  leaning  back  in  his  chair  with 
his  hands  behind  his  head.  "  He  explains  the  half- 
hidden  things  that  a  common  man  knows  form  an  in- 
tegral part  of  himself  and  yet  cannot  grasp.  Somehow 
he  seems  to  be  in  touch  with  Heaven,  and  is  given  charge 
of  the  things  of  the  spirit.  It  can't  possibly  matter  to 
such  a  man  whether  he  is  poor  or  rich.  He  commands 
the  earth,  —  the  honour  of  men  and  the  love  of  women. 
Money  can't  buy  these." 

There  was  a  moment  or  two  of  silence,  during  which 
he  dreamed  vague  dreams.  Then  Lady  Alicia  spoke 
lightly. 

"When  you  come  to  see  me  in  London,  Mr.  Vellacot, 
I  should  like  you  to  meet  Bonamy  Tredgold.  You 


The  Usurper 

could  not  help  loving  him.  He  is  a  man  —  to  his 
finger-tips.  And  besides  you  are  distant  connections. 
He  is  another  cousin  of  mine,  but  on  the  Harden  side. 
Our  grandfathers  were  brothers." 

Jasper's  thoughts  dropped  from  heaven  to  a  troubled 
earth.  This  was  the  first  time  that  she  had  re-opened 
the  question  of  cousinship.  Foolishly  he  had  fancied 
that  she  had  either  forgotten  or  had  accepted  his  dis- 
claimer. He  saw  now  that,  in  her  smiling,  serene  way, 
she  had  taken  the  relationship  for  granted.  A  chilly 
wind  seemed  to  rustle  through  the  leaves.  The  light 
went  out  of  his  face.  He  answered  mechanically.  To 
his  relief  the  Seagrims  came  up  with  Lady  Luxmoore  in 
search  of  Lady  Alicia.  After  a  few  moments'  desultory 
talk  he  left  them  and  strolled  moodily  towards  the 
gaming-rooms.  He  dared  not  think,  —  not  just  yet.  He 
would  find  distraction  in  watching  the  play.  But  in  the 
vestibule  he  came  across  Judge  Blenkinson,  the  Ameri- 
can millionaire,  seated  happily  at  the  sparsely  attended 
petits-chevaux  table,  staking  francs.  The  old  man 
greeted  him,  rose,  and  taking  him  to  a  quiet  spot 
talked  to  him,  until  it  was  time  to  dress  for  dinner,  of 
deals  and  corners,  and  entertained  him  with  the  fairy- 
tales of  Chicago. 

Jasper,  in  repayment  of  various  hospitalities,  had  in- 
vited a  pleasant  party  to  dinner  at  the  Restaurant  of  the 
Cercle.  As  a  matter  of  course,  Lady  Alicia  was  there 
by  his  side.  He  strove  to  play  the  genial  host,  and  was 
morbidly  conscious  of  failure.  His  old  shyness  returned. 
The  people  around  his  table  seemed  to  be  transformed 

42 


The  Usurper 

into  the  glittering  beings  of  another  world  of  whom  he 
had  once  spoken  to  Lady  Alicia.  She  herself,  with  her 
sweet  high-bred  face  and  easy  charm  of  manner,  seemed 
cruelly  remote.  Nervous  apprehension  seized  him  lest 
she  should  jestingly  proclaim  the  cousinship.  The  meal 
dragged  on  interminably. 

At  last  it  came  to  an  end.  The  party  split  up,  moved 
instinctively  towards  the  baccarat.  He  vowed  to  him- 
self that  he  would  not  be  alone  with  her  again.  But 
the  gods,  and  perhaps  Lady  Alicia  herself,  thought 
otherwise.  In  spite  of  his  blundering  diplomacy,  he 
found  himself  walking  by  her  side  in  the  rear  of  the 
others.  He  quickened  his  pace.  Her  fan  laid  a  detain- 
ing touch  on  his  arm. 

"  Not  those  hot,  greedy  rooms,"  she  said.  u  One 
can  only  breathe  in  the  open  air  on  such  a  sultry  night. 
I  feel  I  need  it.  Do  you  mind  ?  " 

"  Where  shall  we  go  ?  " 

"  Oh,  into  the  grounds,  where  there  is  most  air." 

They  sat  on  a  rustic  seat  in  the  half  light  cast  by  the 
brightly  illuminated  building.  She  referred  no  more  to 
the  cousinship,  but  chose  to  be  very  kind  and  restful. 
He  gave  himself  up  to  the  tremulous  delight  of  her 
presence.  He  felt  the  rhythmic  beat  of  her  fan,  and 
every  beat  seemed  to  bring  him  a  subtle  breath  of  her. 
She  led  him  to  talk  of  his  early  days,  his  wanderings, 
his  struggles.  It  was  many  years  since  he  had  spoken 
of  them.  Never  had  he  done  so  to  a  woman.  Things 
that  had  long  ached  in  his  heart  were  charmed  away. 

The  hour  flew  by  magically.  She  rose  to  depart. 
43 


The  Usurper 

He  accompanied  her  to  the  gate  of  the  Hotel  de 
PEurope. 

"Thank  you  for  telling  me  all  this,"  she  said,  as 
they  parted.  u  Now  I  know  that  we  are  friends." 

The  sympathetic  pressure  of  her  soft  palm  sent  the 
blood  leaping  in  his  veins.  He  went  away  filled  with 
her  —  as  a  man  is  filled  with  a  woman  in  the  first  flush 
of  a  great  love.  He  wandered  for  a  time  almost  drunk- 
enly  about  the  streets  of  the  little  town. 

In  his  hotel  bedroom  he  stared  for  a  long  time  at  the 
image  of  himself  in  the  glass.  It  seemed  to  fade  into 
a  mist,  and  out  of  the  mist  came  a  dead  man's  face ; 
and  the  dead  face  faded  and  the  living  face  of  the 
same  man,  as  he  had  seen  it  years  afterwards,  appeared 
framed  in  a  railway-carriage  window. 

He  turned  away  with  a  shiver,  passing  his  hand  over 
his  eyes  like  a  man  awaking  from  sleep.  Then  he  sat 
by  the  window  and  looked  out,  over  the  roofs  of  the  dim 
white  hotels,  at  the  mountains  sharply  cut  against  the 
dark  luminous  sky.  He  was  sane  now.  He  knew  that 
he  loved  this  woman  with  all  his  heart.  And  he  knew 
that  he  must  add  the  burden  of  this  love  to  that  other 
burden  of  his  life.  He  faced  the  future  with  set  teeth, 
as  he  had  done  before.  He  was  a  strong  man. 


44 


CHAPTER   IV 

HE  left  Aix-les-Bains  the  next  day  by  the  morning 
train,  having  despatched  a  note  to  Lady  Alicia, 
regretting  the  suddenness  of  his  departure.  Urgency  of 
affairs  summoned  him  to  London.  He  had  to  thank 
her  for  pleasant  hours.  A  matter  of  courtesy ;  nothing 
more.  On  the  following  evening  he  appeared  before  an 
astonished  Cudby,  and  vouchsafed  little  explanation  of 
his  unexpected  return.  He  was  sick  of  the  place,  said 
he  ;  pined  for  the  comforting  routine  of  work.  Yes,  he 
was  cured  of  his  gout.  Incidentally  he  mentioned  his 
meeting  with  Lady  Alicia,  and  in  the  same  breath  dis- 
cussed Judge  Blenkinson  the  Chicago  millionaire.  The 
lady's  name  gave  Cudby  the  key  of  the  situation,  and 
he  smiled  ironically  at  the  diplomatic  airiness  of  his 
patron. 

Jasper  took  up  the  threads  of  affairs  somewhat  fever- 
ishly, sent  Cudby  off  against  his  will  on  a  short  holiday, 
and  worked  from  morning  to  night.  He  had  several 
important  schemes  on  hand.  There  was  a  fever  hos- 
pital in  a  northern  town ;  an  experiment  in  farming  on 
the  lines  of  the  Salvation  Army  settlement  in  Essex ;  an 
attempt  to  solve  the  housing  problem  in  Bermondsey. 
The  election  at  North  Ham  was  drawing  near.  This 
involved  speech-making,  canvassing,  interviewing  party 
agents,  endless  correspondence.  When  Cudby  returned 

45 


The  Usurper 

he  found  him  a  cheerful  Atlas,  bearing  a  world  of  work 
upon  his  shoulders. 

Meanwhile  Lady  Alicia  remained  at  Aix  till  her  aunt's 
cure  was  accomplished,  accompanied  her  for  the  tradi- 
tional week  or  ten  days'  after-cure  in  Switzerland,  and 
returned  to  England.  A  dutiful  fortnight  was  spent 
with  her  parents  at  the  family  seat  in  Norfolk,  after 
which  she  was  free  to  rejoin  Lady  Luxmoore  at  her  own 
little  place  in  Hertfordshire.  It  was  not  till  the  middle 
of  November  that  she  came  back  to  London. 

Besides  the  little  place  in  Hertfordshire,  Lady  Alicia 
had  a  charmingly  appointed  house  in  Onslow  Square. 
She  had  inherited  them,  together  with  a  considerable 
fortune,  from  her  uncle,  Simon  Vellacot,  who  in  marked 
contrast  with  his  scapegrace  brother,  Jasper,  had  led  a 
decorous  life  as  a  stockbroker,  and,  though  a  bachelor, 
had  died  in  the  richest  odour  of  respectability.  Her 
mother,  the  late  Countess,  had  died  during  Alicia's  girl- 
hood. Her  father  after  a  few  years'  widowhood  had 
married  again,  and  had  followed  his  wife  into  the  paths 
of  extreme  and  militant  nonconformity.  The  Countess 
was  an  agreeable  woman;  the  old  Earl  a  kind  and 
accomplished  gentleman ;  and  for  a  while  Lady  Alicia 
bore  with  the  new  austerities  she  saw  practised  in 
her  home.  But  when  her  father  formally  joined  the 
confraternity  of  Plymouth  Brethren,  Lady  Alicia  bade 
him  adieu  and  set  up  for  herself.  She  was  young,  inde- 
pendent, and  the  bright  world  seemed  to  her  everything 
else  than  the  Aceldama  of  Sin  which  it  was  proclaimed 
to  be  at  the  Castle.  Besides,  during  her  girlhood  she 

46 


The  Usurper 

had  been  trained  in  a  nice  appreciation  of  its  graces  and 
its  pleasures.  If  she  could  not  join  her  parents  in  their 
discovery  that  these  same  pleasures  were  snares  and 
vanities,  it  was  scarcely  her  fault.  They  bemoaned  her 
blindness,  but  as  sweet  reasonableness  was  the  distin- 
guishing quality  of  all  Lady  Alicia's  actions,  they  could 
not  accuse  her  of  unfilial  behaviour.  The  stepmother 
comforted  herself  with  the  feminine  reflection  that,  after 
all,  the  daughter  would  eventually  have  to  go  the  way  of 
a  husband,  and  all  the  old  EarPs  fervour  could  not  drive 
away  a  lurking  unregenerate  surmise  that  the  Almighty 
would  not  send  to  perdition  a  lady  of  her  quality.  So 
Lady  Alicia  set  up  her  two  establishments  without  com- 
mitting the  tiniest  breach  of  the  Fifth  Commandment, 
and  played  the  dutiful  daughter  for  a  fortnight  a  year  in 
the  dreary,  preacher-haunted  Castle. 

She  had  been  leading  this  independent  existence,  with 
Lady  Luxmoore  as  chaperon,  for  the  last  six  years.  She 
was  now  three  and  thirty.  Her  continued  spinsterhood 
surprised  her  friends.  So  sweet  a  woman  they  chorussed. 
So  sympathetic.  So  pretty.  So  exceedingly  well  off. 
Such  a  favourite  with  men.  She  had  a  dozen  or  two 
always  at  her  disposal  at  a  moment's  notice.  Men 
whom  one  had  to  implore  almost  abjectly  to  come  to 
one's  parties  went  to  Alicia's  uninvited — actually  to 
afternoon  tea.  She  could  take  her  pick  of  all  the  eligi- 
bles  in  London,  said  her  friends ;  but  they  were  unaware 
of  any  affair  of  the  heart.  She  smiled  serenely  on  every- 
one. There  was  not  an  instance  of  a  man  retiring  from 
her  circle  discomforted  and  rushing  off  to  shoot  rhinoce- 

47 


The  Usurper 

roses  in  South  Africa  or  bears  at  the  North  Pole.  Her 
friends  could  not  even  hear  of  proposals.  When  they 
asked  her  point-blank  whether  she  had  had  any,  she 
laughed  a  bright  "  Of  course  I  have !  "  but,  further,  re- 
mained sweetly  impenetrable.  In  this  way  she  provided 
them  with  food  for  much  conversation.  She  was  getting 
on.  In  a  few  years,  did  she  continue  in  her  celibacy,  she 
would  be  irrevocably  on  the  shelf.  They  wished  Alicia 
would  marry  —  why,  the  lady  herself  could  never  rightly 
determine.  But  her  hopeless  behaviour  brought  with  it 
one  advantage.  Her  friends  allowed  her  a  freedom  in 
her  relations  with  men  which  they  would  not  have 
tolerated  among  each  other.  She  became  a  chartered 
though  chaste  libertine,  a  Diana  of  South  Kensington, 
whose  doings  were  unquestioned.  In  her  heart  she 
was  rather  proud  of  her  free-pass  through  the  lines  of 
scandal;  perhaps,  being  human,  she  used  it  somewhat 
frequently. 

"  Alicia,"  said  Lady  Luxmoore,  "  that  man  will  cer- 
tainly fall  in  love  with  you." 

"My  dear  aunt,  which  man  ?"  asked  Lady  Alicia, 
turning  round  in  her  chair,  with  a  mother-of-pearl 
pen-holder  in  her  hand.  It  was  a  November  afternoon, 
the  day  after  her  arrival  in  London,  and  she  was  sitting 
at  her  escritoire  sending  off  to  her  friends  intimations  of 
her  return.  The  room  was  cosily  lit  only  by  the  fire  and 
the  rose-shaded  lamp  on  the  escritoire.  Lady  Luxmoore 
had  been  dozing  over  her  knitting  by  the  fireside. 

u  Why,  Jasper  Vellacot.  Did  n't  you  ask  me  just 
now  whether  I  thought  he  was  in  town  ?  " 

48 


The  Usurper 

u  That  was  twenty  minutes  ago,"  laughed  Alicia. 
"  You  have  been  asleep,  dear.  I  had  forgotten  all 
about  him." 

"  Anyhow,  he  will  fall  in  love  with  you.  Mark  my 
words." 

"  They  all  do,  according  to  you,  Aunt  Phoebe.  To 
listen  to  you,  one  would  think  I  was  the  most  be-fallen- 
in-love-with  woman  in  London.  There's  Bunny  and 
Charteris  and  Mainwaring,  and  hosts  of  others  —  and 
now  Jasper  Vellacot." 

"  Well,  you  '11  see,"  said  the  elder  lady,  in  placid 
prophecy. 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  think  he  has  treated  me  rather 
shabbily.  He  ran  away  from  Aix  without  a  hint  of 
good-bye,  and  I  've  had  two  wooden  little  notes  from 
him  since,  —  one,  when  I  offered  to  come  and  canvass 
for  him,  to  say  that  his  canvassing  had  been  done  already, 
and  the  other  acknowledging  my  congratulations  on  his 
election.  I  think  I  am  very  forgiving  to  write  to  him 
now." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  she  went  on,  in  answer  to  a  murmured 
reiteration  from  the  fireside,  u  he  likes  me  in  an  ab- 
stract, far-away  fashion,  from  somewhere  behind  his 
hospitals  and  institutes  and  industrial  dwellings,  but 
those  fill  his  heart.  Besides,  why  should  men  and 
women  be  always  falling  in  love  with  each  other  ? 
Can't  we  be  frank  and  friendly  ?  He  is  just  the  dear 
sort  of  person  to  be  a  friend  to  a  woman.  He  is 
like  a  shy,  elderly  child." 

"  If  you  think  Jasper  Vellacot  is  nothing  but  a  shy, 
4  49 


The  Usurper 

elderly  child,  you  are  making  a  mistake,  Alicia,"  said 
Lady  Luxmoore,  clicking  her  knitting-needles. 

"  Fundamentally  he  is  that,"  replied  Lady  Alicia,  with 
cheerful  assurance.  "  I  saw  a  good  deal  of  him  at  Aix, 
remember.  Of  course  he  is  shrewd  in  business  matters  ; 
but  that  is  not  saying  anything.  It  is  his  general  atti- 
tude toward  life  that  is  so  timid  and  childlike.  He  is  a 
pathetic  figure  with  all  his  wealth.  Do  you  know  that 
he  asked  me  one  evening  what  that  green  stuff  was  with 
ice  in  it  which  people  were  drinking  through  straws  ?  He 
had  never  heard  of  creme  de  menthe.  It  was  a  trivial 
thing,  but  it  signified  so  much  !  " 

"  I  am  not  saying  anything  against  him,  dear,"  said 
Lady  Luxmoore.  "  Don't  think  that  for  one  moment." 

"Why,  of  course  not,  Aunt  Phoebe.  How  could 
you  ? "  smiled  Lady  Alicia,  resuming  her  note-writing. 
u  Does  n't  he  practically  sell  all  that  he  has  and  give  it 
to  the  poor  ?  Besides,"  she  added,  looking  round  over 
her  shoulder,  "  he  is  my  cousin,  you  know." 

Of  that  she  was  firmly  convinced.  His  obvious  dis- 
inclination to  discuss  the  question  she  attributed  to  his 
shyness,  to  the  tragedy  of  his  birth.  His  mother,  he 
had  told  her  truly,  had  dragged  herself  midway  between 
life  and  death,  whence  no  mortal  knew,  into  a  rough 
mining-camp.  She  had  lived  there  three  hours,  during 
which  he  was  born.  That  was  all  he  knew,  all  he  had 
been  able  to  discover  of  his  parentage.  The  rough 
people  who  had  reared  him  during  early  childhood  had 
told  him,  said  he,  that  his  name  was  Jasper  Vellacot. 
Now  it  was  certain  that  Lady  Illingham's  brother  had 

5° 


The  Usurper 

married  in  Australia ;  so  much  Lady  Alicia  had  dis- 
covered. The  presumed  date  of  the  marriage  corre- 
sponded with  the  millionaire's  confessed  age.  Then  the 
name,  or  rather  the  conjunction  of  the  two  uncommon 
names,  was  in  itself  an  identification;  the  long  arm  of 
coincidence  could  scarcely  be  held  accountable.  The 
whole  story  was  romantic  —  the  mysterious  entry  into 
the  world,  the  many  years  of  obscure  wandering,  the 
sudden  possession  of  colossal  wealth,  the  Midas  touch 
that  turned  everything  into  gold,  the  pathetic  frugality 
and  the  earnest  purpose  of  his  life.  Unconsciously  the 
unsatisfied  emotionality  of  the  woman  drank  in  the 
romance,  and  she  was  unaware  how  deep  her  interest 
in  him  lay. 

The  noise  of  her  aunt's  knitting-needles  ceased. 
Lady  Alicia  bit  the  end  of  her  mother-of-pearl  pen- 
holder, and  contracted  her  brows  as  she  looked  at  her 
half-finished  note  to  Vellacot.  Her  aunt's  words  had 
created  a  moment's  misgiving.  She  really  knew  very 
little  of  this  man  to  whom  she  was  writing  in  so  friendly 
a  way.  But  if  it  came  to  that,  what  did  she  know  of 
any  of  her  men  friends  ?  Even  the  most  independent 
and  frank  of  women  have  these  little  frightening  doubts, 
and  the  doubts  become  more  frightening  in  proportion 
as  the  women  are  proud  and  innocent-minded.  Then 
they  feel  humiliated  by  the  limitations  of  their  sex  ;  they 
rebel,  being  women  of  spirit,  and  forthwith  deceive 
themselves  into  greater  confidence  than  ever  in  their 
own  serene  judgment.  Thus  did  Lady  Alicia.  She 
smiled  with  renewed  self-establishment,  and  dashing 

5* 


The  Usurper 

the  pen  into  ink  wrote  off  a  very  friendly  little 
note  indeed,  which  she  regarded  with  satisfaction. 
Then  she  wrote  to  Bonamy  Tredgold,  which  was 
a  longer  affair.  Her  eyes  grew  tender  over  it,  and 
as  she  put  up  the  letter  in  its  envelope  she  breathed  a 
sentimental  little  sigh. 

The  result  of  all  this  note-writing  was  a  small  gather- 
ing of  friends  a  few  evenings  later  in  Onslow  Gardens. 
There  came  Vane  Edory,  R.A.,  and  his  wife  and  his 
daughter  Paulina ;  Guy  Charteris,  home  on  leave  from 
his  legation;  John  Mainwaring,  a  younger  son  about 
town  ;  Sir  Samuel  and  Lady  Dykes  ;  Elinor  Currey,  who 
had  gone  everywhere  and  had  done  everything  and 
adored  Lady  Alicia ;  Bonamy  Tredgold,  slight,  wiry, 
nervous,  athletic,  with  brown,  bright  eyes  and  short, 
black  curly  hair,  and,  latest  to  arrive,  Jasper  Vellacot,  M.P. 

Lady  Alicia  rose  smilingly  to  meet  him  as  he 
entered. 

u  How  charming  of  you  to  have  come  !  I  should  have 
felt  myself  incomplete  if  you  had  n't.  I  have  been  long- 
ing to  congratulate  you  on  your  victory  —  it  was  more 
than  that  —  a  triumph  !  " 

He  could  look  her  in  the  face  now  without  any  fear 
of  the  heart  leaping  to  the  eyes.  He  had  schooled  him- 
self to  it  during  the  months  of  absence.  Yet  her  genu- 
ine welcome,  her  stately  fairness,  the  graciousness  of  her 
presence  harmonising  with  the  subtle  refinement  of  her 
drawing-room,  all  forced  itself  upon  his  consciousness 
with  a  pang.  They  conversed  awhile. 

52 


The  Usurper 

a  You  are  not  looking  as  well  as  you  did  in  Aix," 
she  said  with  friendly  concern. 

"I  was  getting  fat  and  lazy.  Now  I  am  normal. 
You  —  you  are  just  the  same —  except  —  Do  you  know 
that  this  is  the  first  time  I  have  seen  you  without  a 
bonnet  ? " 

"  You  mean  a  hat  !  "  laughed  Lady  Alicia.  u  I  'm 
sure  no  one  has  ever  seen  me  in  a  bonnet  for  years. 
Yes,  at  Aix  one  lives  in  a  hat  from  the  time  one  gets 
up  till  one  goes  to  bed.  I  hope  now  you  '11  often  see 
me  without  a  hat." 

"  As  often  as  you  '11  let  me,"  said  Vellacot,  with  his 
little  awkward  bow. 

She  launched  Vellacot  into  the  circle,  effected  intro- 
ductions. Sir  Samuel  and  Lady  Dykes  he  knew.  The 
ex-member  offered  his  congratulations,  discussed  the 
election,  drew  a  critical  sketch  of  personalities  in 
the  constituency.  Could  give  Vellacot  any  number  of 
tips  in  that  way,  —  indicate  all  the  constituent  corns  that 
lay  in  the  way  of  incautious  treading. 

"There's  a  tremendous  potentate  in  North  Ham," 
said  Sir  Samuel.  u  Wickens,  I  hear  he  Js  the  new 
Mayor  this  year.  He  has  about  seventeen  little  butcher's 
shops  about  London  and  owns  a  rookery  in  Bethnal 
Green.  You  know  the  kind  of  man  —  sweats  the 
blood  out  of  pauper  tenants." 

"  The  brute  !  "  said  Jasper. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  he  is.  And  he  's  a  nasty-tempered 
beggar ;  but  he 's  got  a  deuce  of  an  influence  down 
there  and  you  '11  have  to  conciliate  him." 

53 


The  Usurper 

The  word  was  a  touch  of  the  spur  to  Jasper.  He 
drew  himself  up  sharply. 

"  I  '11  be  shot  if  I  do,"  said  he. 

"  You'll  have  to  fight  him." 

"  Well,  what  then  ?  One  can  crush  a  brute  like  that, 
I  suppose." 

"  Oh,  no  doubt  he  can  be  crushed,"  replied  the  ami- 
able Sir  Samuel.  "  No  doubt,  no  doubt.  And  so  he 
ought  to  be.  I  saw  it  myself.  Only  it  required  a 
younger  man.  That 's  one  of  the  reasons  why  I  re- 
signed, you  know.  But,  my  dear  Vellacot,  if  you  set 
to  work  to  reform  the  morals  of  that  constituency, 
you  '11  have  your  hands  full." 

"  I  'm  going  to  be  master  there  anyway,"  said  Jasper. 
"  And  it  Js  just  that  type  of  blood-sucker  landlord  that  I 
have  been  longing  to  get  my  knife  into." 

Sir  Samuel's  time-serving  suggestion  roused  his  indig- 
nation. The  prospect  of  battle  pleased  him.  He  held 
up  his  head  proudly,  feeling  his  strength.  Sir  Samuel 
shifted  his  ground  and  rambled  on  pleasantly.  After 
all,  politically  speaking,  it  was  a  beautifully  organised 
borough.  The  conservative  club  was  a  model  through- 
out the  country.  Of  course  there  were  Radicals  who 
bombarded  you  with  caustic  letters  ;  but  a  soft-answering 
secretary  could  turn  away  a  lot  of  wrath.  While  listen- 
ing, Jasper  forgot  his  anger  in  speculative  interest  in  the 
other's  attitude  towards  life.  No  scourges  had  ever 
lashed  this  well-fed  elderly  gentleman  into  action.  No 
spiritual  suffering  had  ever  cleared  his  vision  to  ideals. 
With  easy  good-nature  he  had  adopted  —  nay,  been  born 

54 


The  Usurper 

with  —  the  Panglossian  theory  of  the  universe.  How 
many  Sir  Samuels  sat  on  the  government  side  of  the 
House,  below  the  gangway,  serving  time  under  the  placid 
misapprehension  that  they  were  serving  their  country  ! 
And  yet  these  men  were  held  in  honour  in  the  state ; 
their  position  was  unassailable,  their  fathers  had  built  it 
up  for  generations.  And  what  was  he,  Jasper  Vellacot, 
with  all  his  millions  ?  A  nameless  man,  belonging  to 
no  social  caste,  an  Ishmaelite  —  a  Pariah  if  the  whole 
truth  were  known.  He  stood  remote,  fighting  for  his 
own  hand. 

Lady  Alicia  broke  upon  his  musing  and  carried  him 
off  from  Sir  Samuel  to  a  group  where  Elinor  Currey  was 
talking  animatedly.  She  was  a  thin  dark  girl  with  a 
sallow  complexion,  and  no  points  of  beauty  save  lumin- 
ous dark  eyes  and  white  teeth. 

"  Please  support  me,  Mr.  Vellacot,"  she  said,  making 
room  for  him  on  the  couch.  "I  am  maintaining  that 
there  is  no  material  for  romance  in  modern  life." 

"  And  I  maintain  there  is,"  cried  Bonamy  Tredgold, 
boyishly. 

"  First  tell  me  what  is  romance,"  said  Jasper,  the 
usual  wistfulness  returning  to  his  eyes. 

"  It  is  the  picturesque,  the  unusual,  the  unexpected. 
It  is  colour,  imagination,  mystery,  religion,"  said  Elinor 
Currey. 

"  Romance  is  the  artistic  expression  of  the  joy  of  life," 
cried  the  young  poet.  "  Miss  Currey  has  only  enumer- 
ated some  of  the  things  of  which  the  joy  of  life  is 
made  up." 

55 


The  Usurper 

"  it  comes  to  the  same  thing.  Bunny  is  too  logical 
for  a  poet.  But  take  the  quality  of  mystery,  which  he 
allows  is  a  component  of  the  joy  of  life  whose  artistic 
expression  is  romance  — 

"  Oh,  dear  lady !  what  a  house-that-jack-built  sen- 
tence !  "  interrupted  Bunny. 

"  It  is  n't  finished  yet,"  said  the  lady.  "  I  Ve  a  good 
mind  to  say  it  all  over  again.  But  I  continue.  Where 
can  one  find  mystery  in  these  modern  days  of  spiritual 
negation  and  of  scientific  explanation  of  phenomena, 
like  thunder  and  wind,  that  once  were  supposed  to  be 
voices  of  gods  and  wailing  of  lost  souls  ?  There  is  no 
mystery  about  unknown  parts  of  the  earth,  —  the  rail- 
way and  telegraph  have  made  practically  every  square 
inch  as  unromantic  as  this  drawing-room." 

"  How  on  earth  do  you  know  there  is  no  mystery, 
nothing  romantic  in  this  drawing-room  ?  "  said  Bunny. 
"  What  more  awful  mystery  can  there  be  than  another 
human  being  ?  What  do  you  know  of  the  extraordinary, 
subtle,  complex,  secret  thing  that  is  I  ?  What  do  I 
know  of  you  ?  Just  think  of  a  man  and  a  woman  who 
love  one  another, — with  one  of  the  immemorial  pas- 
sions of  old  romance,  —  whose  hearts  and  souls  and 
beings  seem  to  be  fused  into  one,  —  in  spite  of  all  must 
not  each  remain  an  inscrutable  sphynx  to  the  other  ?  It 
is  the  constant  striving  to  solve  this  mystery  that  is  the 
joy  of  love,  and  any  expression  of  this  joy  is  romance. 
And  as  regards  the  wind  and  the  rain,  the  wind  will 
always  blow  and  the  rain  will  fall,  and  flowers  will 
bloom,  and  the  earth  will  be  magical  with  beauty,  and 

56 


The  Usurper 

man  will  face  it  all  and  speculate  on  its  relation  with 
himself;  and  that  is  an  eternal  mystery." 

u  Well,  I  '11  yield  you  the  mystery,"  said  Elinor 
Currey.  "  But  colour  has  died  out.  Everything  is  dull 
monotone." 

u  The  sunset,  for  instance ;  the  night-fires  in  the 
black  country ;  Oxford  Street  with  its  whirling  mass 
of  colour." 

"  But  the  grey  lives  of  people." 

u  Our  lives  are  kaleidoscopic  compared  with  those 
of  our  ancestors,"  exclaimed  Bunny,  excitedly.  "  Be- 
cause people  don't  wear  cloaks  and  swords,  and  fight 
duels,  and  catch  young  women  up  round  the  waist  and 
carry  them  off  on  horses,  you  say  romance  is  dead.  It 's 
idiotic.  You  say  our  lives  are  restricted  by  law,  by  con- 
vention, that  we  can't  do  any  of  the  wild  and  wicked  old 
things  that  people  used  to  do.  By  Jove,  can't  we  !  And 
it 's  because  we  have  to  crash  through  the  Statute  Book, 
the  Ten  Commandments  and  the  Beatitudes  of  Mrs. 
Grundy,  in  order  to  do  them,  that  they  show  up  all  the 
more  vividly.  As  for  the  unexpected,  is  n't  it  happening 
day  by  day  ?  Are  n't  great  crimes  committed  ?  Don't 
great  tragedies  occur  ?  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that 
grand  passions  are  dead  ?  I  say  there  is  infinite  ma- 
terial for  romance  in  the  world.  The  earth  is  full  of  its 
glory  !  What  do  you  think,  Mr.  Vellacot  ?  " 

The  eager,  boyish  face  appealed  strongly  to  the  wearier 
man.  He  would  have  given  much  to  have  such  radiant 

D 

faith  in  life.  Thus  challenged,  he  could  not  but  agree, 
but  he  spoke  more  soberly,  out  of  a  deeper  experience. 

57 


The  Usurper 

"  As  long  as  the  two  elemental  passions  —  Hunger 
and  Love  —  remain,"  said  he,  u  there  will  be  eternal 
material  for  romance." 

"  But  the  ordinary  person  does  not  suffer  from  hunger," 
remarked  Lady  Dykes,  with  complacent  stupidity. 

The  eyes  of  Jasper  and  Bunny  chanced  to  meet,  and 
the  mutual  gaze  was  held  for  some  seconds;  and  the 
freemasonry  of  sensitives  who  have  suffered  worked  re- 
ciprocal understanding.  The  two  men's  natures  went 
out  to  meet  each  other,  and  the  moment  was  the  begin- 
ning of  their  friendship. 

The  evening  wore  on.  Guests  departed.  Bunny 
came  to  Lady  Alicia  to  bid  her  good-bye.  She  withdrew 
with  him  into  the  curtained-off  back  drawing-room,  and 
scanned  his  face,  which  was  paler  than  usual. 

u  You  are  not  looking  well,"  she  said.  "  What  is  the 
matter  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  Alicia.     I  'm  as  strong  as  a  horse." 

"  You  have  been  working  too  hard,  Bunny,  without  a 
holiday.  Why  did  n't  you  come  down  last  month  to 
Greybrooke  ?  It  was  lovely  ;  the  whole  place  breathed 
of  peace.  And,"  she  added  with  a  smile,  u  there  were 
hundreds  of  partridges  dying  to  be  killed." 

"  I  was  kept  in  town,"  said  he.     "  I  really  was." 

"  If  I  only  could  get  you  to  go  down,  now,  even,"  said 
Lady  Alicia,  somewhat  wistfully.  "  The  house  and  all 
that  is  in  it  are  at  your  disposal.  You  know  that." 

He  took  her  hand  —  no  one  was  in  sight,  the  thick 
portiere  hiding  them  from  the  drawing-room  —  and 
kissed  it,  and  held  it  for  a  while  in  his. 

58 


The  Usurper 

"  You  are  the  sweetest  and  dearest  and  generousest 
lady  living,"  said  he.  "And  I  should  be  an  unhung 
wretch  if  I  were  n't  grateful  to  you.  But  I  could  n't 
—  I  really  could  n't  come  to  you  last  month.  And 
now  —  " 

"  And  now  ?  " 

"  I  am  still  kept  in  town.  Besides,"  said  he,  with 
his  frank  laugh,  "  what  should  I  do  there  without  you  ? 
Don't  you  know  how  tremendously  good  it  is  to  see  you 
again  ? " 

"  Is  it  ?  "  she  asked  with  a  little  turn  of  the  head. 

"  Of  course,"  said  he.  "  Who  would  look  after  me, 
if  you  did  n't  ?  " 

A  sigh  fluttered  at  her  throat.     She  pressed  his  hand. 

"  Well,  good-bye,  Bunny  dear.  Let  me  see  you  look- 
ing less  white  when  you  come  again.  And  come  soon." 

He  promised,  went  out  with  her  into  the  drawing- 
room.  Jasper  came  forward  to  take  his  leave. 

"  I  am  delighted  with  Tredgold,"  he  said.  Lady 
Alicia's  eyes  grew  bright.  She  expressed  her  gladness. 
It  was  his  youth,  so  strong  and  sane  and  joyous,  that 
captivated  him,  said  Jasper. 

u  Youth  ?  Yes,  he  has  youth,"  she  replied,  rather 
blankly. 

Jasper  met  him  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  getting  into 
his  overcoat,  and  they  went  out  of  the  house  together. 

u  Which  way  are  you  going  ?  "  asked  Jasper. 

"  Bloomsbury." 

"  So  am  I.  How  are  you  going  —  cab,  train, 
walk—?" 

59 


The  Usurper 

u  I  must  walk,"  said  Bunny.  "  But  you,  Mr. 
Vellacot  —  " 

u  I  always  walk,  if  I  can." 

They  trudged  along  at  a  brisk  pace.  There  was  a 
first  touch  of  frost  in  the  air.  The  sky  was  clear,  and 
now  and  then  a  meteor  flashed  like  a  sword  across  the 
firmament.  Bunny  flung  up  a  hand. 

"  The  dear  young  lady  saying  there  was  no  mystery  !  " 
said  he. 

They  discussed  the  question  further,  Jasper  glad  to 
hear  the  fresh  young  talk.  Suddenly,  before  they  had 
reached  the  top  of  Sloane  Street,  the  young  man  swung 
round,  staggered,  and  caught  hold  of  a  lamp-post.  Jas- 
per had  his  arm  round  him  at  once,  saw  by  the  gas- 
light that  his  face  was  white.  u  I  feel  queer  —  half 
dizzy  —  fainting." 

Jasper  hailed  a  cab,  helped  him  in,  stopped  at  a  tavern, 
and  brought  out  a  glass  of  brandy.  Bunny  put  it  to  his 
lips,  shrank  from  it,  gulped  some  of  it  down.  The 
drive  was  resumed.  Arrived  at  Gower  Street,  Jasper 
and  the  cabman  conveyed  him  to  the  dining-room.  He 
lay  on  the  sofa  for  a  few  moments  with  closed  eyes. 
Then  he  roused  himself,  looked  round  somewhat 
astonished. 

"  Better  ?  "  asked  Jasper,  taking  ofF  his  hat  and  laying 
it  on  the  table. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bunny,  sitting  up.  "  I  still  feel  a  bit 
queer  —  but  I  must  get  home  to  Great  Coram  Street." 
Then  he  coughed  a  little  nervous,  throaty  cough.  The 
light  from  the  electric  wall-bracket  fell  full  upon  him, 

60 


The  Usurper 

shewed  pitilessly  white  seams  in  his  dress-coat,  a  patch 
on  boots  that  were  not  of  patent-leather.  The  cough 
awoke  Jasper's  suspicions.  He  had  heard  it  before. 
He  remembered  the  exchanged  glance  at  Lady  Alicia's. 
The  sight  of  the  patched  boots  made  him  certain. 
With  rough  kindness  he  gripped  the  young  fellow's 
shoulders. 

u  Look  here,  when  did  you  have  your  dinner  ?  " 

Bunny  laughed  foolishly,  and  rested  his  head  on  his 
hand. 

u  I  'm  afraid  I  did  n't  have  any  dinner,"  said  he. 

Jasper  seized  biscuits  and  wine  from  the  sideboard. 

cc  Go  on  with  this  till  I  come  back,"  he  said,  and  left 
the  room. 

All  his  modest  household  were  abed.  Even  Cudby 
was  sleeping  peacefully  upstairs.  Jasper  entered  his 
kitchen  and  pantry  with  the  excitement  of  a  man  explor- 
ing the  blank  unknown.  But  he  had  too  often  in  past 
years  conjured  up  meals  from  impossible  places  to  have 
forgotten  the  trick  of  it.  He  clattered  noisily  upstairs 
with  a  tray  full  of  food,  and  set  it  before  his  guest,  who 
had  been  nibbling  biscuits.  Bunny  began  to  apologise. 
Jasper  cut  him  short.  He,  and  thousands  of  better  men 
than  he,  had  been  there  before. 

"Eat  and  don't  talk,"  said  he,  and  he  sat  down  by 
the  side  of  Bunny  and  cut  himself  a  hunk  of  bread  and 
cheese  which  he  ate  while  the  distressed  young  poet 
attacked  his  plateful  of  cold  pie.  The  food  and  wine 
soon  revived  him. 

"  It 's  awfully  good  of  you,  Mr.  Vellacot,"  he  said 
61 


The  Usurper 

boyishly.  "I  don't  know  what  I  should  have  done  — 
but  I  'm  horribly  ashamed  of  running  down  like  that." 

"  It  's  no  good  being  ashamed  of  Nature,"  said  Jasper. 
u  She  is  too  frank.  Now  tell  me  straight.  Do  you 
often  go  without  your  dinner  ?  " 

Bonamy  Tredgold  glanced  around  him  with  the  quick 
artist's  sense  of  observation.  The  quiet  homely  room, 
furnished  with  less  ostentation  than  a  hundred  other 
dining-rooms  in  the  same  street,  the  table  with  its  simple 
red  cloth  on  which  lay  the  tray  and  plates  and  simple 
food  and  Jasper's  hat  and  gloves,  the  careworn,  kind 
face  of  his  host,  and  his  homely  munching  of  household 
bread  and  gruyere  cheese  —  all,  contrasting  with  his 
knowledge  of  the  man's  enormous  wealth,  impressed 
the  young  fellow  with  a  great  feeling  of  respect  for  him, 
of  trust  in  him,  of  faith  in  the  mere  man,  of  comradeship. 
At  first,  when  he  had  been  alone,  gnawing  the  biscuits, 
the  pride  of  the  well-born  gentleman  had  risen  up  and 
stabbed  him  as  hard  as  the  pangs  of  hunger.  That  he, 
Bonamy  Tredgold,  should  be  beholden  to  a  rich  man 
for  a  meal  to  save  him  from  starvation  was  a  thought 
almost  unendurable.  But  now  it  was  different.  With 
those  kindly,  wistful  eyes  looking  at  him  from  behind 
the  rugged  brows,  he  felt  that  reserve  would  be  no  longer 
pride,  but  only  that  which  was  contemptible.  He 
answered  with  a  laugh. 

"  Not  often.  I  've  only  gone  from  breakfast  to 
breakfast  once  before  this  year.  You  see,"  he  said 
with  engaging  confidence,  "  it  would  be  all  right  if 
these  infernal  editors  and  publishers  would  pay  up  to 

62 


The  Usurper 

time.  But  they  won't.  I  ought  to  have  had  some 
money  this  morning.  It  did  n't  come.  Went  round 
to-day.  Proprietor  had  a  cold,  and  they  did  n't  like  to 
bother  him  to  sign  the  cheque.  Anyway  it  will  turn  up 
to-morrow  morning." 

"  But  at  the  present  moment  you  have  n't  a  penny  in 
the  world  ?  " 

u  Not  a  halfpenny,"  replied  Bunny,  cheerfully. 
"  What  does  it  matter  ?  " 

"  By  God  !  "  cried  Jasper,  "  it  does  n't  matter  the  half- 
penny that  you  have  n't  got !  " 


CHAPTER  V 

THEY  became  great  friends.  Jasper  stood  towards 
the  young  poet  in  the  double  relation  of  guide 
and  disciple.  The  dreamer  in  him  saw  to  the  heart  of 
the  matter  in  Bunny's  work,  and  he  never  lost  the  awed 
reverence  for  the  genius  that  could  interpret  in  magical 
words  the  vague  formless  impressions  that  had  haunted 
him  from  boyhood.  In  this  wise  the  young  man  was  to 
him  as  the  angels.  On  the  other  hand  the  concrete 
experience  of  a  hard  life  passed  amid  crude  elementals 
made  him  conscious  of  a  wisdom  far  exceeding  Bunny's. 
The  boy  beheld  the  earth  and  cried  aloud  that  it  belonged 
to  him  ;  the  man  knew,  with  the  knowledge  that  comes 
of  living,  that  he  belonged,  for  all  his  divine  gift,  to  the 
earth,  to  its  joys  and  its  sufferings,  its  hopes  and  its 
despairs. 

It  was  good  to  have  his  fresh  laughter  in  the  dull 
house,  to  listen  to  his  enthusiasms,  to  warm  the 
heart  in  his  sunny  illusions.  An  imperfectly  educated 
man,  Jasper  was  amazed  at  the  other's  literary  range, 
which  seemed  boundless.  He  regarded  him  almost  as 
the  rustics  in  Goldsmith's  poem  did  the  village  school- 
master. Even  Cudby  owned  to  a  rival  in  Shakespearean 
knowledge.  The  two  would  engage  in  excited  duels, 
capping  obscure  quotations  from  the  plays  and  sonnets, 
while  Jasper  would  sit  in  amused  and  silent  won- 

64 


The  Usurper 

der.  It  was  good,  also,  to  have  the  boy's  frank  and 
absolutely  disinterested  friendship.  The  fact  that  one 
represented  zero  and  the  other  infinity  in  the  scale  of 
wealth  never  seemed  to  strike  Bunny  as  one  that  could 
make  any  possible  difference  in  their  relations.  He  had 
the  pride  of  the  infernal  hierarchy.  Jasper  knew  that 
the  first  hint  of  patronage  would  set  him  ablaze.  He 
had  walked  up  and  down  the  library  gesticulating  in  fine 
wrath  because  Lady  Illingham  had  sent  him  a  ten 
pound  note.  How  dared  she  ?  He  was  a  man  with 
his  work  in  the  world  to  do,  not  a  beggar  to  live  upon 
alms !  It  was  insulting.  He  had  sent  the  cheque  to 
the  Royal  Literary  Fund  as  a  donation  from  the  Countess 
of  Illingham.  This  was  not  the  only  indication  that 
Jasper  received  of  his  young  friend's  magnificent  inde- 
pendence. The  friendship  therefore  was  entirely  sincere, 
and  Jasper,  who  had  sedulously  shunned  all  intimate 
companionship  save  that  of  Cudby,  felt  his  heart  open 
gratefully  to  the  long-denied  comfort. 

The  months  passed.  Jasper  learned  the  many  stairs 
that  led  up  to  the  two  back-rooms  which  Bunny  occu- 
pied at  the  top  of  a  house  in  Great  Coram  Street. 

On  the  occasion  of  such  visits  Bunny  would  empty 
the  one  dilapidated  armchair  of  books  and  biscuit  tins 
for  his  guest,  and  entertain  him  with  cheap  whisky 
drunk  out  of  cracked  and  dubious  tumblers  and  watered 
from  his  bedroom  water-bottle.  He  did  the  honours  of 
his  limited  establishment  with  the  simple  air  of  a  young 
prince.  A  few  years  before,  when  he  lived  in  his  Cor- 
nish home  with  its  liveried  servants  and  stableful  of 
5  65 


The  Usurper 

horses,  he  would  have  offered  his  father's  hospitality 
with  the  same  unthinking  ease.  The  fact  that  his 
father  died  hopelessly  involved,  leaving  him  just  thirty 
pounds  a  year  out  of  the  estate,  was  an  accident  that  did 
not  affect  Bunny  at  all  in  his  relations  with  men  and 
women.  When  he  cut  the  cake  with  a  paper  knife  and 
handed  it  to  Jasper  on  the  lid  of  a  biscuit-tin,  his  only 
apology  was  for  fresh  inkstains  on  the  ivory.  Person- 
ally, he  explained,  he  liked  the  flavour  of  ink  ;  but  it 
was  an  acquired  taste.  And  Jasper,  a  man  of  simple 
habits  who  had  not  accustomed  his  palate  to  the  differ- 
entiation of  fine  flavours,  drank  the  oily  whisky  and  ate 
the  cheap  cake  with  as  much  relish  as  his  host. 

As  time  passed  on,  the  friendship  had  consequences 
involving  closer  relations  with  Lady  Alicia.  Jasper's 
appreciation  of  Bunny  warmed  her  heart  towards  him. 
The  friendship  which  she  had  so  gracefully  offered  passed 
into  a  feeling  stronger  than  the  original  pretty  senti- 
ment, and  imperceptibly  a  pleasant  fireside  intimacy  grew 
up  between  them,  Bunny  being  the  connecting  link. 
They  devised  schemes  for  his  good,  and,  as  Cudby  said, 
formed  a  sort  of  Wild  Animal  Protection  Society.  But 
while  their  schemes  generally  came  to  naught,  owing  to 
the  impossibility  of  inducing  the  wild  animal  to  be  pro- 
tected, his  recalcitrancy  only  awakened  fresh  sympathies, 
such  as  spring  from  a  partnership  in  failure.  Jasper 
viewed  the  intimacy  somewhat  fatalistically.  It  was 
written  that  his  life  should  cross  this  woman's,  and  he 
accepted  the  inevitable.  Yet  the  common  interest 
formed  a  neutral  ground  between  his  heart  and  Lady 

66 


The  Usurper 

Alicia,  whereon  they  could  meet  without  battle.  And 
therein  lay  exceeding  comfort.  He  could  talk  with  her 
alone  in  the  charming  confidence  of  the  fireside  without 
holding  guard  over  his  words  and  looks  lest  the  strug- 
gling passion  should  escape  them. 

Possibly  their  friendship  was  not  of  as  much  account 
to  Bunny  as  to  Jasper.  It  is  the  way  of  youth  to  take 
its  friendships,  like  its  fortunes,  lightly.  Besides,  he 
lived  in  a  queer  world  of  his  own,  peopled  with  vision- 
ary shapes  and  lit  with  an  elusive  glory  and  murmuring 
with  strange  songs.  He  had  his  ambitions,  his  dreams. 
He  let  himself  be  loved  by  his  friends  in  the  happy  and 
unconscious  egotism  of  his  twenty  years.  The  future 
was  his,  full  of  golden  promise.  Jasper  Vellacot  had 
but  the  grey,  haunting  past  that  arose  and  spread  itself 
in  impenetrable  mist  before  the  future.  It  was  a  joy  to 
stand  with  the  young  man  on  the  mountain  top  and 
watch  the  rise  of  the  young  man's  sun.  Thus,  from 
the  nature  of  things,  the  friendship  could  not  be  the 
same  to  Bunny.  But  his  clear  healthy  mind  saw  the 
straight  simplicity,  the  sincerity,  the  large-heartedness, 
and  the  underlying  sadness  of  the  man  of  millions,  and 
on  his  side  the  impulse  of  affection  was  sincere  and 
strong. 

The  discreet  messenger  entered  a  sleepy  House  of 
Commons  one  March  afternoon  and  handed  Jasper 
Mr.  Bonamy  Tredgold's  card.  Scottish  railroad  busi- 
ness lulled  members  to  repose.  Jasper  went  out  into 
the  lobby  to  be  pounced  upon  by  the  owner  of  the  card 
and  greeted  excitedly. 


The  Usurper 

u  How  jolly  of  you  to  come  out  at  once  !  I  could  n't 
wait  —  I  've  got  it,  you  know.  Was  close  by  in  the 
Strand,  so  I  came  down  straight  to  tell  you." 

"  Your  mind  is  confused,  Bunny,"  remarked  Jasper, 
with  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  "I'm  not  in  it.  Try 
again.  But  first,  why  don't  you  wear  your  overcoat  this 
diabolical  weather  ?  " 

u  Oh,  confound  the  overcoat !  I  '11  call  for  it  on  my 
way  home.  I  did  n't  come  to  talk  about  overcoats. 
I  've  settled  it  with  Campion." 

"  Campion  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Campion.  But  where  do  you  live  ?  The  one 
and  only  Lester  Campion,  one  of  the  leading  theatrical 
managers  in  London.  But  perhaps  I  did  n't  tell  you 
about  it  ?  It 's  an  order  for  a  play,  a  poetical  one-act 
play,  —  in  verse,  you  know.  Contract  signed.  We  hag- 
gled over  terms  a  bit  —  It 's  beastly,  is  n't  it  ?  But  even  a 
chap  who  writes  poetry  must  live.  It 's  ripping,  Vella- 
cot.  You  see,  a  one-act  play  is  the  thin  end  of  the 
wedge.  Then  will  come  a  great  poetical  four-acter. 
And  it  may  be  the  torch  that  will  rekindle  the  poetic 
drama  in  England.  The  vista  seems  infinite.  Never 
mind  the  metaphors.  I  'm  so  happy  that  I  can  mix 
them  like  drinks.  It 's  splendid,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

"  Of  course  it 's  splendid.  I  'm  delighted.  Have 
you  told  Lady  Alicia  ?  " 

14  Lady  Alicia  ?  "  echoed  Bunny,  sharply.  u  No. 
How  could  I,  seeing  that  I  've  rushed  forthwith  to 
you." 

44 1  '11  send  her  a  wire  from  here." 
68 


The  Usurper 

"No.  I '11  write.  Women  don't  understand  wires. 
She  '11  jump  to  the  conclusion  that  a  new  c  Hamlet ' 
is  going  to  be  produced  the  day  after  to-morrow.  I  'm 
not  a  cynic.  It 's  only  her  way,  and  I  'm  doing  it  for 
her  good." 

He  laughed,  tilted  back  his  round  felt  hat,  and  rested, 
his  hands  behind  him,  on  his  umbrella,  round  the  point 
of  which  a  little  pool  of  water  collected  on  the  flagstones. 
His  dark  face  was  flushed  with  excitement  and  the  walk 
through  the  wind  and  rain.  He  looked  to  Jasper  like  a 
young  conqueror  unconscious  of  the  responsibilities  of 
his  empire.  He  could  be  forgiven  —  such  was  the 
fascination  of  his  youth  —  for  his  disregard  of  royal 
ladies,  even  of  the  royalest  and  most  high-enthroned 
one.  A  paternal  rebuke,  however,  for  convention's 
sake,  hovered  on  Jasper's  lips.  Bunny  forestalled  it  by 
a  quick  change  of  attitude. 

u  I  wonder  if  you  could  give  me  a  tremendous  treat  ? " 
said  he.  "To  mark  the  occasion.  Could  you  dine 
with  me  ?  You  never  have,  you  know.  You  are  not 
busy  here,  are  you  ?  I  looked  at  the  Orders  of  the 
Day  on  purpose.  They  seem  dulness  petrified.  Do 
come." 

"  Very  well.  I  can  be  free  till  ten,  when  I  must  be 
back  here.  But  why  not  dine  with  me  ? " 

"  That  would  n't  be  the  same  thing  at  all.  I  know 
what  you  're  thinking  of.  You  imagine  that  I  've  pawned 
my  overcoat.  I  have  n't.  I  was  with  Fuller  when  the 
rain  came  on ;  he  was  out  in  a  thin  suit,  with  a  cough 
like  the  neighing  of  the  White  Horse  of  Death,  so  I 

69 


The  Usurper 

sent  him  home  in  my  coat.  Besides,  Campion  has  given 
me  an  advance,  and  I  've  heaps  of  money  at  home." 
He  had  become  perfectly  frank  in  such  matters. 

"  Very  well,"  laughed  Jasper.  "  It  will  be  delightful. 
I  tell  you  what  —  you  '11  take  me  to  —  the  —  that  place 
you're  always  talking  about — " 

"Antonelli's —  the  Hotel  Bomboni  ?  It's  awfully 
primitive,  you  know,"  said  Bunny,  deprecatingly. 

u  So  am  I  primitive,  Bunny.  Have  n't  you  found 
that  out  yet  ?  I  Ve  been  meaning  to  ask  you  to  take 
me  there  for  weeks." 

"  Well,  your  indigestion  will  be  upon  your  own  head. 
But  the  food  is  not  so  bad  when  once  you  've  got  outside 
it,"  he  added. 

It  was  raining  so  heavily  that  Jasper,  contrary  to  his 
habits  of  personal  economy,  took  a  cab.  It  was  his 
duty  to  his  constituents,  he  explained  gaily,  a  politician 
with  a  sore  throat  being  a  vain  thing.  Bunny  was  too 
much  accustomed  to  the  frugalities  of  the  millionaire  to 
wonder  at  the  apology.  Indeed,  it  was  these  very  fru- 
galities that  made  the  odd  comradeship  possible.  It  was 
hard  to  realise  that  the  man  who  lived  in  a  plain  house 
in  Gower  Street,  and  dined  off  plain  joint  and  sweet,  had 
all  the  luxuries  of  the  earth  at  his  command,  and  wielded 
the  enormous  power  of  wealth  that  no  one  could  esti- 
mate. In  ordinary  intercourse  he  forgot  the  fact. 

The  cab  turned  up  a  small  street  off  Old  Compton 
Street,  Soho,  and  stopped  at  a  door  over  which  "  Hotel 
Bomboni  "  was  inscribed  in  black  letters  on  a  large  semi- 
circular white  glass  fascia  that  had  seen  better  days.  A 

70 


The  Usurper 

cat  performed  its  toilette  leisurely  on  the  threshold,  and 
made  way  for  the  visitors  with  an  air  of  aggrieved  sur- 
prise. A  glass  door  in  the  dark  short  passage  admitted 
them  into  the  restaurant.  It  was  a  low  room,  lit  with 
gas  and  tarnished  and  blackened  with  gas.  There  were 
half  a  dozen  small  tables,  two  of  which  were  occupied 
by  somewhat  seedy  nondescripts,  male  and  female.  A 
very  young  waiter,  with  elaborately  curled  hair,  wide 
collar,  narrow  black  tie,  and  dingy  linen,  conversed  in 
a  posture  of  elegant  ease  with  the  occupants  of  the  table 
next  the  door.  An  older  waiter,  in  dingier  linen,  greasy 
and  perspiring,  hurried  to  and  fro  with  plates  and  dishes. 
In  a  parlour  at  the  back  a  glimpse  could  be  obtained  of 
a  man  in  dirty  shirt-sleeves,  sitting  by  a  table,  and  the 
click  of  dominoes  proclaimed  his  occupation.  A  coun- 
ter, with  dishes  of  sad  fruit  and  pallid  pastry,  and  an 
array  of  liqueur  bottles,  ran  half-way  the  length  of  the 
room.  Behind  it  stood  an  exceedingly  attractive  girl, 
neatly  dressed  in  black,  to  whom  Bunny,  as  he  entered, 
bowed  politely.  It  was  a  dingy,  fly-blown,  decaying 
little  restaurant,  and  the  girl  struck  an  odd  note  of  life 
and  freshness  —  like  a  dewy  dark  rose  on  a  dust-heap. 

"  You  would  have  it,"  laughed  Bunny,  as  they  took 
their  seats.  "  Here,  Giuseppe  !  " 

The  perspiring  waiter,  a  low-browed  fellow,  with  a 
servile,  flabby  face,  shuffled  up.  What  did  Messer  Tre- 
golo  desire  ?  There  was  soupe  aux  oignons  —  very  good. 
There  was  stufatlno  milanaise,  ossabucco^  rosbif.  He 
had  n't  seen  Messer  Tregolo  for  two  days.  The  Sig- 
norina  had  been  asking  after  him.  Perhaps  he  would 

71 


The  Usurper 

like  an  omelette  aux  rognons.  Bunny,  who  had  been 
scanning  the  bill  of  fare,  cut  his  suggestions  short  by 
ordering  the  dinner.  Giuseppe  went  away,  wiping  his 
forehead  with  his  napkin. 

"  That 's  the  greasiest  varlet  unhung,"  remarked 
Bunny.  "  I  'm  sure  he 's  an  awful  scoundrel.  He 
looks  as  if  he  had  stepped  out  of  some  Vision  of  Sin. 
You  could  imagine  him  as  a  confidential  scullion  of  the 
Borgias." 

Jasper  smiled  indulgently.  His  young  friend's  ex- 
pressions of  likes  and  dislikes  were  generally  forcible. 

"  They  seem  to  know  you  here,"  he  said. 

"  Oh  yes.  I  often  come.  I  found  out  the  place  a 
little  while  ago.  That 's  the  proprietor,  Antonelli,  in 
there  playing  dominoes.  He  's  always  at  it.  Heaven 
knows  how  the  thing  is  run.  I  think  the  unspeakable 
Giuseppe  does  most  of  it.  And  Vittoria  —  the  demoiselle 
du  comptoir —  she  's  old  Antonelli's  niece.  And  this  thing 
waddling  in  here  is  the  cat.  I  've  christened  him  Corpo 
dl  Bacco.  The  other  waiter's  name  is  Auguste.  Now 
you  know  the  whole  family." 

Giuseppe  arrived  with  the  soup.  Bunny  ordered  half 
a  flask  of  Chianti.  He  expatiated  on  the  merits  of  the 
wine  of  the  country.  You  got  all  the  oil,  earth,  and 
acidity  of  the  Italian  character.  And  it  was  true  red 
wine  withal.  Besides,  the  wickerwork  base  always 
made  him  think  of  Keats's  ode.  Jasper  had  forgotten  it. 
How  did  it  run  ?  Bunny  laid  down  his  spoon  and  re- 
peated some  lines  in  the  reverential  monotone  which 
a  poet  seems  instinctively  to  adopt  when  reciting  verse, 

72 


The  Usurper 

He  started  off  on  lyrical  eulogy  of  Keats.  The  man 
sang  colour.  He  intoxicated  you  with  the  swirl  of 
luminous  reds,  woke  you  with  the  ripple  of  blues,  made 
you  tremulous  with  the  frosty  shiver  of  whites,  and  then 
drowned  you  in  tumultuous  seas  of  purple.  Jasper 
pointed  out  that  meanwhile  his  fish  was  getting  cold. 
He  damned  the  fish  in  his  youthful  way,  ate  it  hurriedly, 
eager  to  talk.  Joyous  life  radiated  from  him  like  warmth 
from  the  sun.  Jasper  took  him  back  to  the  new  play. 
Had  he  an  idea  ?  Bunny  pushed  aside  his  plate. 

u  It 's  all  going  to  be  colour  and  wine  and  music," 
said  he.  "  I  want  to  send  the  blood  rushing  back  into 
the  anaemic  veins  of  the  modern  stage.  Don't  you  see 
what  a  pallid  thing  it  is  ?  Oh,  if  I  could  only  do  it! 
I  've  got  a  story.  Love.  Young  love.  Passion,  glow, 
a  touch  of  tragedy  behind  to  sweep  the  thing  along. 
Everything  is  to  be  elemental.  No  subtleties,  no  per- 
plexities of  mood.  Just  the  old,  eternal  natural  passions 
of  love  and  hate,  and  the  joy  of  coming  together  of  the 
fierce  man  and  the  fierce  woman.  For  strip  us  and 
that 's  what  we  are,  —  the  modernest  and  most  complex 
of  us.  Any  man  worth  this  wine  would  rush  through 
hell-fire  to  get  the  woman  he  wanted,  and  a  woman 
would  crawl  through  it  to  her  man  with  the  flames  lick- 
ing her  breasts  —  I  Jve  got  it  all  dancing,  floating  about 
inside  me.  If  I  only  can  get  it  out  as  I  want !  But  we 
never  do,  I  'm  afraid.  It 's  like  this  poulet  en  casserole. 
Has  it  never  struck  you  how  poulet  en  casserole  appeals 
to  the  imagination  ?  One  thinks  of  ambrosial  tender 
delights  coming  out  of  that  earthenware  pan  — •  and 

73 


The  Usurper 

when  one  gets  it,  it 's  the  same  tough  old  hen.     Giu- 
seppe !  I  ordered  fowl  and  you  've  given  us  emu." 

u  If  there  is  a  mistake,  I  will  ask  the  signorina,"  said 
Giuseppe,  politely. 

"  My  dear  boy,  it 's  delicious,"  said  Jasper.  "  It 's  as 
tender  a  chicken  as  I  've  ever  eaten." 

"  You  need  n't  trouble  the  signorina,  Giuseppe.  This 
gentleman  is  kind.  He  calls  it  chicken.  You  're  awfully 
good,  Vellacot.  Do  you  know,  I  'd  sooner  eat  hen  than 
chicken.  It  seems  such  a  shame  to  cut  a  young  life 
short,  before  it  has  had  its  fling,  —  before  it  has  taken  its 
fill  of  sunshine  and  freedom  and  love  and  happiness. 
And  I  hate  eating  larks.  It 's  like  running  a  spit  through 
joy  incarnate  and  roasting  it  with  lard.  It 's  like  con- 
verting the  '  Moonlight  Sonata'  into  soup.  By  the  way, 
did  it  ever  strike  you  how  the  genius  can  turn  this  soup 
of  human  affairs  into  the  c  Moonlight  Sonata'  ?  " 

"  That 's  what  you  seem  to  be  trying  to  do  every  day 
of  your  life,  Bunny,"  said  Jasper.  "  That 's  what  being 
a  poet  means,  I  think.  Here  's  to  the  play." 

He  lifted  up  his  wineglass  and  drank.  Bunny  ac- 
knowledged the  toast.  There  was  a  little  silence,  during 
which  he  fingered  the  stem  of  his  coarse  glass  and 
reflected.  Then  he  lifted  up  his  head  in  his  quick  way. 

"You  are  so  much  older  than  I  am,  Vellacot.  Do 
you  think  I  make  too  much  of  youth  ?  I  know  intel- 
lectually that  a  man  of  forty  is  young  still,  but  I  can't 
realise  it.  It  seems  as  if  everything  were  behind  you  at 
forty.  I  wish  I  could  always  remain  three  and  twenty. 
Tell  me  if  I  am  simply  silly." 

74 


The  Usurper 

"  Yes  and  no,"  said  Jasper,  looking  at  the  young  man 
with  the  wistful  expression  in  his  eyes.  "  Perhaps  it  is 
the  advantage  of  forty  that  it  teaches  us  the  relativity  of 
things.  You  will  be  young  at  sixty.  I  was  elderly  at 
nineteen.  It  depends  upon  what  you  've  got  to  feed  on. 
When  you  die  —  " 

"  I  hate  death,"  interrupted  Bunny.  u  Should  I  have 
to  die,  I  '11  die,  I  hope,  like  a  gentleman  ;  but  I  hate  it. 
My  God  !  Vellacot,  there  is  so  much  to  do  in  the  world." 

And  as  Jasper  saw  him  flushed  with  youth  and  hope, 
with  the  sinewy  young  body  of  the  athlete  (had  not 
Bunny  been  the  hope  of  his  College  eleven  at  Cam- 
bridge before  his  career  there  closed  ?)  and  the  frank, 
clear-cut  face  of  the  artist,  he  thought  that  never  did  the 
shadow  of  Death  hover  so  far  from  human  creature. 

"  For  the  always  young  there  is  ever  so  much  to  do," 
said  he.  "  For  the  always  old  there  is  little.  You  will 
find  more  to  do  —  of  the  things  that  matter  —  at  eighty 
than  I  do  to-day.  And  when  you  die  at  eighty  you  '11 
complain  that  you  Ve  been  cut  off  like  the  chicken  you 
were  talking  about,  whereas  I  —  " 

He  finished  the  sentence  with  a  shrug  and  a  sip  of 
the  Chianti.  Bunny  burst  out  fervently,  — 

"  You  ?  You  've  got  a  whole  wide  world  full  of 
misery  to  alleviate.  Look  at  the  thousands  that  bless 
your  name  now  —  the  thousands  who  would  be  the 
poorer  and  unhappier  if  you  died  to-morrow  !  It  makes 
my  brain  reel  sometimes  to  think  what  a  god  you  must 
feel  yourself  to  be  !  " 

"  Only  a  pitiful  god  out  of  the  machine,  Bunny,"  said 
75 


The  Usurper 

Jasper.  u  A  stage  property,  lowered  down  into  the 
world,  against  my  will  and  against  my  nature,  by  the 
Great  Scene-shifter.'* 

"  It  strikes  me,"  said  Bunny,  "  that  we  have  our  wine 
sad,  as  they  say  in  France.  We  ought  n't  to,  you  know. 
Just  hold  this  stuff  up  to  the  light  and  look  through  it. 
Look  at  the  flames  of  ruby,  the  red,  lucent  mysteries  of 
it.  Does  n't  it  suggest  the  promise  of  glory  ?  And  if 
one  sees  it  in  this  cheap  stuff,  what  must  n't  it  be  in 
'  the  true,  the  blushful  Hippocrene,'  that  has  lain  years 
and  years  and  years  in  the  cool  earth,  till  it 's  like  love, 
'  a  spirit  all  compact  of  fire/  By  the  way,  how  is 
Cudby  ?  " 

Jasper's  duller  brain  could  never  quite  follow  the 
other's  quick  sequence  of  ideas.  Why  Cudby  should 
have  come  into  Bunny's  head  a  propos  of  the  colour  of 
cheap  Chianti,  he  was  at  a  loss  to  determine.  However, 
he  gave  sober  news  of  the  little  man.  He  was  very 
well.  Had  been  cursing  the  ignorance  of  second-hand 
booksellers,  having  been  lured  into  a  pilgrimage  to 
Canterbury  by  an  advertisement  of  a  first  folio  of  Shake- 
speare, to  find  it  only  the  reprint  of  1807. 

"  But  why  a  man  should  hanker  after  a  first  folio, 
when  he  can  get  a  decent  edition  of  all  Shakespeare's 
works  for  three  or  four  shillings,  is  much  more  of  a 
mystery  to  me  than  the  Trinity,"  said  Jasper. 

"Your  bibliophile  is  an  angel  with  a  bee  in  his  — 
halo,"  said  Bunny,  oracularly. 

They  talked  on.  The  dinner  drew  to  a  close.  Bunny 
ordered  coffee  and  kummel,  and  drew  out  his  cigarette 

76 


The  Usurper 

case.  Jasper  smoked  his  pipe.  The  nondescripts  at 
the  other  tables  had  departed.  They  were  alone  in  the 
frowsy,  gas-lit  room.  Antonelli  of  the  sombre  shirt- 
sleeves was  still  in  evidence  through  the  door  leading 
into  the  back-parlour,  and  the  click  of  dominoes  still 
broke  the  silence.  The  young  woman  behind  the 
counter,  who  had  interrupted  her  reading  to  give 
Giuseppe  the  bottle  of  kiimmel,  sat  on  her  stool  for 
some  time  watching  Bunny  and  his  friend.  At  last 
she  swung  out  of  the  narrow  space  and  crossed  the 
restaurant. 

"  Good-evening,  Bon  Ami,"  she  said,  coming  up  to 
the  table.  "I  hope  you've  had  a  good  dinner." 

"Excellent,"  said  Jasper,  kindly  answering  for  his 
host.  "  I  've  put  myself  into  Mr.  Tredgold's  hands  and 
he  has  made  me  fare  sumptuously." 

"  That  is  well,"  said  the  girl,  "  for  we  don't  go  in  for 
much  purple  and  fine  linen  at  the  Hotel  Bomboni." 

"  You  read  your  Bible,"  said  Jasper,  amused  at  the 
quick  reference. 

u  I  read  all  good  literature  I  can  come  across,  even 
Bon  Ami's  poetry." 

She  had  the  most  curious  accent  in  the  world.  It 
was  half  Cockney,  half  Italian.  The  vowels  were  pure. 
The  consonants  had  the  London  throatiness.  The 
intonation  was  Neapolitan  and  languorous.  The  last 
sentence  was  not  sarcastic,  but  a  playful  lazy  caress. 

w  This  is  Miss  Vittoria  Antonelli,"  said  Bunny, 
by  way  of  introduction. 

Vittoria  held  out  to  Jasper  a  delicate  brown  hand. 
77 


The  Usurper 

"  It 's  quite  an  event  for  Bon  Ami  to  have  a  friend 
to  dinner,"  she  said.  "  He  generally  sits  over  there," 
pointing  to  a  table  under  the  lee  of  the  counter,  "like 
a  hermit." 

As  she  stood  there,  with  the  light  of  the  gas-bracket  of 
the  wall  shining  full  in  her  face,  Jasper  saw  that  she  was 
exceedingly  beautiful.  Olive  skin,  with  the  flush  of 
health  beneath  ;  great  lustrous  brown-black  eyes  ;  a  wealth 
of  hair;  rich  lips;  full  young  figure.  She  had  a  proud 
way  of  holding  herself,  her  bust  thrown  out.  She  looked 
alive,  glowingly  alive.  Bunny's  words  flashed  across  his 
mind,  —  u  the  fierce  man  and  the  fierce  woman."  Here 
was  a  pair  physically  mated,  with  all  the  divine  fire  and 
splendour  of  youth.  He  smiled  to  himself  at  the  foolish 
notion. 

The  young  Juno  bade  them  good-evening.  She  had 
to  get  her  supper. 

"  What  does  she  call  you  ?  "  asked  Jasper. 

"  It  amuses  her  to  pun  upon  my  name,  Bonamy,"  said 
Bunny. 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  Jasper. 

"  It 's  miraculous  how  she  has  managed  to  cultivate  her- 
self as.she  has  done,"  said  Bunny,  lighting  a  fresh  cigarette. 

"  A  handsome  girl,"  said  Jasper. 

"She  has  walked  straight  out  of  one  of  Andrea  del 
Sarto's  canvases,"  said  Bunny. 

As  Jasper  had  very  dim  notions  concerning  the  artist 
mentioned,  he  acquiesced  vaguely.  The  talk  continued 
for  a  few  minutes.  He  looked  at  his  watch.  It  was  half- 
past  nine. 

78 


The  Usurper 

u  I  am  due  at  the  House,"  said  he.  u  Would  you  care 
to  hear  the  debate  ?  A  Poor-Law  question.  I  may 
speak." 

Bunny  excused  himself.  Practical  politics  were  not 
in  his  line.  When  the  hated  stroke  of  thirty  sounded, 
then  he  would  fling  himself  into  statistics  and  stony  facts. 
Till  then  he  would  go  on  living  in  the  air. 

"  Then  come  a  bit  of  the  way  with  me,"  said  Jasper, 
in  whom  weariness  had  not  killed  a  little  teasing  spirit. 
But  Bunny  had  good  reason  for  declining.  He  would 
sit  there  for  awhile  longer  and  rough  out  the  idea  of  his 
play.  Jasper  smiled  and  rose  from  the  table.  Bunny 
helped  him  on  with  his  overcoat,  accompanied  him  to  the 
door. 

"  Good-night,  my  dear  boy,"  said  he,  shaking  hands. 
"  You  've  given  me  a  capital  dinner  and  a  delightful  even- 
ing. And  now  —  well,  'gather  ye  rosebuds  while  ye 
may,'  Bunny,  but  keep  a  lookout  for  the  thorns." 


79 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  fragrant-minded  unmarried  woman  of  thirty,  to 
whom  material  care  has  never  come  and  upon 
whom  the  finger  of  passion  has  never  been  laid,  is  apt  to 
hanker  unconsciously  after  things  which  the  pride  or  self- 
sufficiency  of  earlier  maidenhood  has  serenely  rejected. 
Growing  more  sensitive,  she  begins  to  feel  the  faintly  stir- 
ring outermost  ripples  of  the  splash  which  Mother  Eve 
made  in  the  Waters  of  Life.  She  welcomes  the  scarcely 
perceptible  thrills,  the  dainty  lapping  of  the  wave  against 
her  heart.  Soon  is  the  delicate  emotion  to  her  as  the  breath 
of  her  being.  She  will  seek  it  in  painting  and  music. 
She  will  divine  it  in  poetry.  Possibly  she  will  write  a  novel 
about  the  fair  loves  of  a  boy  and  girl  which  she  may  or  — 
more  often — may  not  publish.  If  she  has  no  brains, 
she  will  lavish  exaggerated  affection  upon  a  poodle  and  tie 
bits  of  ribbon  in  lover's  knots  all  over  it.  If  she  is  a  wo- 
man of  the  world,  she  will  find  a  pleasant  subtlety  in  her 
necessarily  franker  relations  with  men.  She  will  reclaim 
fugitive  little  impressions,  will  delight  in  innocent  little 
experiments.  She  will  love  to  exercise  the  power  which 
the  charm  of  her  riper  wisdom  puts  into  her  hands.  Each 
sign  of  a  man's  submission  will  be  an  exquisite  flattery. 
She  weaves  around  herself  a  gossamer  veil  of  sentiment 
which  would  be  torn  to  piteous  shreds  by  the  vulgar 
charge  of  flirtation.  Such  a  woman  is  the  Diana  who 

So 


The  Usurper 

would  tremulously  kiss  the  brow  of  the  sleeper  on 
Latmos,  but  would  feel  never  a  warm  heart-throb  for  the 
awakened  man. 

Lady  Alicia  was  fragrant-minded,  over  thirty,  unmar- 
ried, a  woman  of  the  world.  She  had  established  between 
herself  and  two  men,  Jasper  Vellacot  and  Bonamy  Tred- 
gold,  relations  which  afforded  her  the  most  delicate  pleasure. 
She  loved  to  bring  out  various  phases  of  their  characters, 
to  contrast  them,  to  compare  the  personal  impression 
that  by  a  word  or  an  act  she  had  made  on  each.  Each 
man  had  his  own  picturesqueness,  his  own  pathos,  his  own 
little  need  of  her  sympathy  which  appealed  to  her  senti- 
mentalised temperament.  But  she  toyed  most  pleasantly 
with  her  tenderness  for  Bunny. 

One  evening  in  May  she  dined  early  and  drove  to  the 
House  of  Commons.  Jasper  had  sent  her  a  seat  for  the 
Ladies'  Gallery  with  a  message  that  he  was  to  bring  in 
his  Amendment  that  night.  It  had  been  long  arranged 
that  she  should  hear  him  make  his  first  important  speech, 
and  in  order  to  do  so,  she  had  sacrificed  first-night  tickets 
for  an  interesting  production  at  a  West  End  Theatre. 
She  began  to  put  on  her  gloves  in  the  brougham,  quite 
contented  with  the  world.  The  feminine  thought  that 
her  exquisite  heliotrope  dress  and  her  daintily  done  hair 
would  be  quite  thrown  away  in  the  murkiness  of  the  cage 
in  the  roof  of  the  House  of  Commons  gave  a  piquancy 
to  the  sense  of  friendship's  duty  accomplished.  For 
whether  she  would  attend  an  evening  party  afterwards 
depended  upon  a  great  many  things.  In  her  bosom  was 
a  little  flutter  of  trepidation  that  made  for  happiness. 
6  81 


The  Usurper 

He  was  so  good,  so  gentle,  she  said  to  herself,  so  diffident 
of  his  powers ;  the  House  so  stern,  so  unpitying. 
Would  he  break  down  ?  Would  he  convince  ?  She 
vowed  him  balm  of  consolation  in  case  of  defeat.  She 
would  be  exceedingly  nice  to  him.  The  vision  of  her- 
self as  healer  of  wounds  was  attractive.  She  smiled. 
It  held  her  thoughts  longer  than  her  fundamental  com- 
mon-sense considered  dignified;  for  suddenly  she  drew 
herself  together  and  completed  the  gloving  of  her  hands 
with  a  businesslike  air. 

She  arrived  towards  the  end  of  the  dinner-hour.  The 
House  was  thin,  and  a  monotonous  voice  kept  up  the 
debate  on  the  government  measure.  Lady  Alicia  nodded 
to  an  acquaintance  in  the  gallery,  and  armed  herself  with 
her  woman's  virtue  of  patience.  The  Speaker  returned 
from  his  hasty  meal.  Members  began  to  saunter  in. 
Gradually  the  green  benches  filled.  Jasper  entered  by 
the  door  beneath  the  Reporters'  Gallery  and  spoke  to  one 
of  the  clerks  at  the  table.  Then  he  looked  up  towards 
the  Ladies'  grating,  wondering  whether  she  was  there. 
Lady  Alicia  made  a  sign  with  her  fan,  but  he  evidently 
did  not  perceive  it,  for  his  face  was  unsmiling  as  he 
turned  and  went  to  his  seat  below  the  gangway.  The 
debate  continued.  It  was  an  hour  and  a  half  before 
Jasper's  amendment  was  arrived  at.  The  Opposition 
had  stigmatised  the  government  measure,  which  dealt 
with  factory  legislation,  as  the  tinkering  up  of  an  old 
Act  with  intent  to  delude  the  public  into  the  belief 
that  it  was  a  new  one.  The  minister  in  charge  of  the 
bill  had  prayed  that  the  principle  should  be  accepted. 

82 


The  Usurper 

Jasper's  amendment,  without  attacking  the  principle,  ex- 
tended the  scope  of  certain  clauses  beyond  the  prescribed 
limits  of  the  principle.  It  made  the  bill  broadly  humani- 
tarian instead  of  specifically  benevolent.  When  Jasper 
rose  in  a  rather  listless  House,  there  was  the  familiar 
rustle  of  interest.  The  glamour  of  his  wealth,  the 
vague  legends  of  his  previous  life,  the  obscurity  of  his 
present  social  existence,  were  not  without  their  influence. 
Lady  Alicia  felt  some  pride  in  the  attention  he  com- 
manded. He  began  nervously,  sought  anxiously  for  his 
words.  A  stick  of  Lady  Alicia's  ivory  fan  broke  with 
a  snap.  Gradually,  however,  as  he  reached  broad 
issues,  his  voice  grew  fuller  and  deeper,  phrases  came 
readily,  the  rough  Australian  accent  returned.  He  felt 
deeply.  The  legislation  he  advocated  would  set  free 
one  of  his  own  schemes  hitherto  balked.  With  emo- 
tion his  face  grew  stern,  his  shoulders  lost  their  stoop, 
and  he  faced  the  House  like  a  strong  man.  The  House 
listened  to  him  with  evident  appreciation.  Lady  Alicia 
beheld  an  astonishing  transformation  with  absorbed  eyes. 
She  sat  spellbound  until  cordial  cheering  announced  the 
end  of  his  speech.  Then  she  leaned  back  in  her  seat, 
feeling  somewhat  unstrung,  absurdly  angry  at  the  Dra- 
conian laws  that  prevented  her  relieving  pent-up  emo- 
tion by  applause.  The  reaction  over,  the  warmth  of 
gladness  overspread  her.  A  chord  within  still  vibrated 
with  the  deep  throb  of  the  man's  voice.  She  checked 
the  action  of  her  fan  and  regarded  the  broken  stick 
kindly.  How  foolish  to  have  been  afraid  !  The  mo- 
notonous tones  of  the  seconder  of  the  amendment  floated 

83 


The  Usurper 

unmeaningly  through  the  grating.  With  feminine  in- 
stinct she  brought  the  new  and  the  old  Jasper  inte 
harmony,  adapted  herself  agreeably  to  the  fresh  con- 
ception. On  the  surface  of  these  subtleties  lay  honest 
pleasure  at  his  success. 

The  minister  in  charge  of  the  bill  rose  to  criticise  the 
amendment.  He  paid  a  handsome  tribute  to  Jasper's 
eloquence  and  sincerity  of  purpose,  but  pointed  out 
the  difficulties  that  his  proposals  scattered  in  the  path  of 
practical  legislation.  The  urbanity  of  the  minister's 
remorseless  logic  vexed  the  woman  in  Lady  Alicia. 
And  when  Jasper,  after  obtaining  a  half  pledge  from 
the  government  that  the  ground  left  untouched  by  the 
present  bill  would  be  covered  to  some  extent  by  a  future 
measure,  withdrew  his  amendment,  she  felt  oddly  dis- 
appointed at  the  tame  conclusion.  Primitive  instinct 
desired  blood  with  victory. 

She  made  this  confession  to  him  awhile  later,  when 
he  met  her  outside  the  Ladies'  Gallery,  the  second  read- 
ing of  the  bill  having  been  carried. 

"  I  had  no  desire  to  upset  the  Government  altogether," 
he  laughed.  "  What  would  my  constituents  have  said  ? 
It  was  a  grand  thing  to  get  that  promise  out  of  them. 
At  first  I  thought  I  was  going  to  miss  it." 

"  I  did  n't,"  said  Lady  Alicia.  "  At  least,"  she  cor- 
rected, with  a  glance  at  the  limply  drooping  fan-stick, 
"  not  after  you  once  got  into  your  stride,  as  Mr.  Main- 
waring  would  say.  Then  you  were  splendid.  I  feel 
quite  proud.  I  have  so  wanted  you  to  become  a  force 
here  as  you  are  outside.  Here  you  are  at  the  heart  of 

84 


The  Usurper 

the  great  machine  with  all  the  levers  to  your  hand.  It 
must  be  glorious.'* 

u  One  must  remember  that  there  are  six  hundred  and 
sixty-nine  other  fellows  all  hankering  after  these  same 
levers,"  he  replied  brightly,  u  and  that  the  number  of 
them  is  limited." 

"  Ah,  but  you  '11  be  one  of  the  chosen,"  she  said. 

He  passed  through  a  moment  of  delicious  happiness. 
The  success  of  his  speech  had  excited  him.  The 
charming  faith  of  the  adored  one  carried  him  upward 
on  rapturous  wings. 

"  Such  praise  as  yours  —  alone  —  it  would  be  worth 
any  man's  righting  for,"  he  said  incoherently. 

"  Do  you  really  mean  it  ?  "  she  asked,  colouring  with 
pleasure. 

"  Mean  it  ?     Of  course  I  mean  it." 

"  How  sweet !  I  shall  always  remember  what  you 
have  said."  She  looked  him  happily  in  the  face  out  of 
untroubled  hazel  eyes. 

"  To  have  won  your  friendship  is  my  proudest  achieve- 
ment," said  he. 

He  escorted  her  down  the  stairs  and  saw  her  to  her 
brougham. 

"  Home  ?  "  he  enquired  through  the  carriage  window. 

She  had  not  thought  of  her  destination.  His  question 
threw  her  back  upon  herself.  She  was  seized  with  a 
sudden  longing  —  inexplicable  to  her  then  and  ever 
afterwards  —  to  see  Bunny.  He  had  been  invited  in 
his  quality  of  young  literary  lion  to  the  evening  party 
she  had  half  thought  of  attending.  He  had  told  her 

85 


The  Usurper 

that  he  might  put  in  an  appearance.  She  wanted  to  see 
him,  she  could  not  tell  why. 

"  Mrs.  Durfey's,  Eccleston  Square,"  she  said.  Jasper 
gave  the  order  to  the  coachman,  and  she  drove  off.  At 
the  Durfeys',  however,  there  was  no  Bunny  awaiting 
her.  Nor  did  he  appear  at  all  before  her  departure. 
Lady  Alicia  drove  home  with  a  new  and  discomforting 
sense  of  irritation.  Something  was  oddly  wrong  in  her 
beautifully  mapped  out  cosmical  scheme.  Resentfully 
she  wished  she  had  asked  Jasper  to  accompany  her  to 
the  Durfeys'.  Then  she  reflected  that  he  had  not  been 
in  evening  dress.  Her  mind  ran  worryingly  into  exas- 
perating little  blind-alleys.  Eventually  she  went  to 
sleep  on  the  forlorn  reflection  that  life,  after  all,  was  a 
hollow  affair,  a  matter  of  much  vanity,  if  not  of  vexa- 
tion of  spirit.  And  the  worst  of  it  was  that  she 
could  n't  account  for  her  mood ;  an  impotence  generally 
hated  by  women. 

Jasper,  meanwhile,  walked  home  with  a  heart  full  of 
emotions.  He  had  spoken  well ;  he  had  established  him- 
self as  one  to  whom  the  House  listens  with  respect ;  he 
had  gained  his  immediate  end.  His  own  scheme  for  the 
amelioration  of  the  lot  of  factory  hands  could  not  in  any 
case  come  to  fruition  within  three  years.  There  was 
ample  time  for  the  Government  to  redeem  their  promise  j 
and  he  meant  them  to  do  it.  He  had  his  hand  on  the 
lever,  to  use  Lady  Alicia's  figure.  Her  enthusiasm 
swept  through  him.  He  had  spoken  truly.  To  bring 
that  light  into  her  eyes  he  would  have  faced  anything  on 
earth,  —  rush  through  hell-fire,  as  Bunny  had  said.  Why 

86 


The  Usurper 

should  he  not  traverse  the  fires  of  his  conscience  and 
win  her  ?  He  shuddered  with  joy  at  the  thought.  Why 
should  he  not  gratify  the  personal  ambition  he  had  kept 
crushed  and  despised  within  him  r  What  was  not 
within  his  power  ?  A  parliamentary  career  lay  before 
him.  He  could  give  the  chiefs  of  his  party  organization 
a  signed  strip  of  paper  torn  out  of  his  cheque  book,  with 
the  sum  left  blank.  His  enormous  charities,  his  politi- 
cal services  would  soon  entitle  him  to  demand  a  bar- 
onetcy, perhaps  in  years  to  come  a  peerage.  Would 
not  that  wash  out  the  stain  upon  his  name,  give  him  a 
fresh  honourable  standing  among  men,  so  that  he  could 
go  to  her  with  his  love,  win  her  as  his  wife  ?  Surely 
she  would  not  reject  his  offering.  If  he  spoke  all  the 
passion  that  was  in  him,  those  kind  eyes  could  refuse 
him  nothing. 

He  walked  with  swinging  step,  through  the  sweet 
May  air,  up  Parliament  Street,  Whitehall,  across  Trafal- 
gar Square,  up  Whitcombe  Street,  Wardour  Street, 
without  thinking  where  he  was  going,  sensible  only  of 
general  direction.  The  name  of  Old  Compton  Street, 
lit  up  by  the  gas-lamp,  caught  his  eye.  His  way  lay 
eastward.  At  the  end  of  the  little  street  he  saw  the 
fascia  of  the  Hotel  Bomboni.  An  idle  fancy  for  the 
tortuous  route  drew  his  step  down  the  street.  As  he 
passed  by  the  restaurant,  he  glanced  through  the  open 
door.  The  room  was  clear  of  nondescript  eaters  and 
waiters.  Even  the  cat,  Corpo  di  Bacco,  had  retired.  But 
under  the  lee  of  the  counter  sat  Bunny,  with  his  eyes 
fixed,  not  on  the  plate  in  front  of  him,  but  on  the  face 

87 


The  Usurper 

of  Vittoria  Antonelli,  who  was  leaning  lazily  over  the 
counter.  The  two  looked  perfectly  happy. 

Jasper  went  away  laughing.  Their  happiness  chimed 
with  his  own.  He  could  not  blame  Bunny.  The  girl 
was  so  beautiful.  And  youth  was  so  beautiful.  And 
love  was  beautiful.  And  forty  was  still  youth.  Could 
he  have  desired  more  passionately  at  twenty  ?  Could  he 
have  walked  with  more  elastic  tread  ?  Her  words  sang 
through  his  brain.  Perhaps  in  her  shy,  dainty  woman's 
way  she  loved  him.  It  was  a  thought  to  send  the  stars 
whirling  in  madness  about  the  sky. 

He  slept  but  little  that  night. 

In  the  morning  Cudby  flourished  u  The  Times  "  at 
him.  His  speech  was  reported  nearly  in  full. 

u  Tell  me  all  about  it,"  cried  the  little  man. 

44  (  This  fierce  abridgment 
Hath  to  it  circumstantial  branches,  which 
Distinction  should  be  rich  in,' 

as  Cymbeline  remarks.  Do  you  know  there  is  not  a 
situation  in  the  whole  range  of  human  life  for  which 
that  marvellous  man  has  n't  chosen  the  exact,  the  in- 
evitable phrase  ?  And  here's  this  other  Radical  rag  with 
half  its  leader  devoted  to  you,  hailing  you  as  a  Rienzi  in 
Tory  clothing.  You  awake  and  find  yourself  famous, 
my  Jasper." 

u  I  think  these  tell  you  everything,  Tommy,"  said 
Jasper,  scanning  the  newspapers.  "  I  got  out  what  we 
had  arranged  I  should  say,  and  everybody  seemed  to  be 
pleased  with  it,  and  you  have  read  the  result." 

88 


The  Usurper 

Cudby,  who  was  recovering  from  a  chill  which  had 
kept  him  in  bed  for  some  days,  and  still  confined  him  to 
the  house,  deplored,  by  a  quotation  from  "  The  Two 
Noble  Kinsmen,"  the  fate  that  had  prevented  him  from 
witnessing  Jasper's  triumph. 

"  I  've  been  longing  so  for  you  to  make  your  power 
felt  in  the  House,"  said  Cudby. 

Jasper  smiled  as  the  memory  of  Lady  Alicia's  words 
—  almost  the  same  words  —  came  thrillingly  back  to 
him. 

"  And  now,  do  you  honestly  think  I  have,  Tom  ?  " 

"  You  can  do  anything  you  damn  well  choose,"  said 
Cudby. 

Jasper  went  on  with  his  breakfast.  There  was  a  si- 
lence. Cudby  re-read  the  report  of  the  epoch-making 
speech.  "  Tom,"  said  Jasper,  suddenly,  u  what  do  you 
think  of  Lady  Alicia  Harden  ?  " 

Cudby  put  up  his  gold-rimmed  eyeglass,  and  looked  at 
his  patron  in  his  quizzical  birdlike  fashion. 

"The  immortal  one,  as  usual,  dictates  the  answer. 
'  She  is  a  woman,  therefore  may  be  woo'd  ;  She  is  a 
woman,  therefore  may  be  won  ;  She  is '  —  pardon  the 
liberty  for  the  sake  of  the  metre  — '  She  is  Alicia,  there- 
fore must  be  loved.'  That 's  what  Demetrius  says  in 
c  Titus  Andronicus/  You  can  bet  he  was  right." 

"  Do  you  think  me  a  fool,  Tom  ?  " 

"  My  dear  chap,"  replied  Cudby,  stretching  out  a  lean 
brown  hand,  w  you  deserve  every  blessing  the  earth  can 
offer." 

A  little  while  later  Jasper  went  into  his  library,  hum- 
89 


The  Usurper 

ming  an  air.  The  usual  pile  of  correspondence  awaited 
him.  The  typist  sat  demurely  at  her  place,  sucking  the 
end  of  her  pencil.  The  day's  work  began.  The  rou- 
tine went  on  for  a  couple  of  hours. 

"  A  person  to  see  you,  sir,"  said  a  maidservant,  enter- 
ing the  library.  u  His  name  is  Burke." 

"  Has  he  an  appointment  ?  "  asked  Jasper. 

"  I  don't  know,  sir." 

"  Know  anything  about  him  ?  "  he  inquired  of  Cudby. 

Cudby  consulted  a  diary.  Yes,  he  was  a  dead-beat 
from  San  Francisco.  Kelly  the  agent  had  invoiced  him 
all  right. 

"  I  '11  see  him,"  said  Jasper. 

The  maid  retired.     Cudby  dismissed  the  typist. 

u  Here  's  a  letter  from  Erskine,"  said  he.  "  He  's 
having  rows  with  the  Borough  Surveyor.  I  wish 
Borough  Surveyors  were  dead." 

u  So  do  I,"  laughed  Jasper,  glancing  over  the  letter. 

The  maidservant  entered.  The  door  was  behind 
Cudby.  Jasper  faced  it. 

"  Mr.  Burke,  sir." 

Following  her  came  a  shambling  man,  with  a  black 
unkempt  beard  and  watery  eyes.  He  had  an  odd  cir- 
cular scar  on  his  cheek.  He  stood  on  the  threshold 
twirling  a  cloth  cap.  Cudby  turned  round  impatiently 
to  the  servant. 

"  Not  here !  why  can't  you  heed  instructions  ?  Shew 
Mr.  Burke  into  the  waiting-room,  and  Mr.  Vellacot 
will  see  him  when  he  is  disengaged.  Confound  these 
new  maidservants !  "  he  said  irritably,  when  the  door 

90 


The  Usurper 

was  shut  behind  the  intruders.  "  Why  can't  you  have 
men  about  the  place,  Jasper,  instead  of  these  silly 
women  ?  Hallo,  what 's  up  ?  "  he  cried,  rising  from  the 
table. 

Jasper's  face  was  as  white  as  paper.  He  pointed  to 
the  door. 

"  The  man  !  "  he  said  hoarsely.     "  The  man  !  " 

"  What  about  him  ?  " 

"  He  is  the  man.  The  man  you  know  of —  come  to 
claim  his  own.  The  real  Jasper  Vellacot." 


CHAPTER   VII 

ON  that  far-off  day  when  the  wandering  mining 
engineer  had  pointed  to  the  vast  wealth  lying  at 
his  feet,  Jasper  nearly  lost  his  reason.  He  spent  the 
night  praying  incoherently  to  a  vaguely  remembered  but 
still  believed-in  God.  An  army  of  unknown  shapes 
with  accusing  voices  broke  the  great  silences  that  en- 
compassed him,  and  his  soul  sought  refuge  from  fear. 

Hitherto  a  sensitive  conscience  had  accepted  the 
barrenness  of  this  land  as  a  punishment  for  wrongdoing. 
Although  the  accredited  owner,  with  government  grants 
duly  signed  and  sealed  in  his  possession,  he  knew  the 
land  to  be  his  shameful  inheritance  from  a  dead  man. 
For,  two  years  before,  he  had  left  a  dead  man  in  a 
rough  shanty  many  miles  away  in  the  bush,  and  he  had 
taken  with  him  the  dead  man's  papers  and  the  few  shill- 
ings his  pockets  contained.  What  were  the  man's 
antecedents  he  knew  not.  From  their  three  days'  com- 
radeship before  the  man  sickened  he  had  gathered  that 
he  was  as  friendless  and  as  drifting  as  himself.  He  did 
not  even  know  his  name.  In  the  rare  conversation  they 
had  held  together  they  had  called  each  other  "  mate." 
But  the  papers  were  documents  relating  to  a  govern- 
ment grant  of  land  far  away,  and  the  grant  was  made 
out  in  the  name  of  Jasper  Vellacot,  and  the  old  letter- 
case  containing  the  papers  had  also  "  Jasper  Vellacot  " 

92 


The  Usurper 

inscribed  in  it,  and  so  "  Jasper  Vellacot  "  the  survivor 
called  himself  thenceforward.  He  travelled  many  weary 
miles,  registered  his  title  to  the  land  at  the  nearest  town- 
ship, and  found  it  a  mockery  of  black  barrenness.  He 
accepted  his  lot  with  resignation. 

Most  of  his  life  had  been  a  hopeless  struggle  with 
circumstance.  His  mother  had  come  no  one  knew 
whence  into  the  rough  mining-camp,  in  her  supreme 
agony,  to  die  an  hour  after  he  was  born.  A  miner  and 
his  wife  took  charge  of  him,  called  him  John  Taylor, 
because  one  name  was  as  good  as  another.  He  lived  a 
rough,  half-starved,  half-naked  life  for  ten  years;  then 
the  man  in  a  fit  of  delirium  tremens  killed  the  woman 
and  got  hanged  himself.  The  child  was  left  to  battle 
with  the  world.  After  that  came  a  term  of  happy  years. 
An  elderly  Wesleyan  minister  and  his  wife,  themselves 
childless,  took  pity  on  him  and  adopted  him.  He  be- 
came part  son,  part  servant.  From  the  minister  he 
received  education,  religion,  and  a  knowledge  of  the 
amenities  of  gentle  life.  He  accompanied  them  from 
Australia  to  the  little  town  in  Natal  whither  the  minister 
was  transferred  by  the  Wesleyan  authorities ;  there  he 
saw  something  of  the  great  world.  The  old  man  set 
his  heart  upon  the  lad's  entering  the  ministry.  For  a 
time  he  saw  visions  and  imagined  that  he  had  received 
the  Grace  of  God.  Then  came  doubts  and  lukewarm- 
ness  of  faith,  and  the  visions  ceased,  and  he  grew  aware 
that  the  saving  of  souls  was  not  his  vocation.  But  he 
learned  what  sweet  things  are  kindliness  and  love  and 
simplicity  of  heart,  and  the  lesson  remained  all  his  life 

93 


The  Usurper 

long.  Then  he  became  acquainted  with  death  and 
sorrow.  First  his  adopted  mother  died  ;  two  years  after- 
wards the  old  man  followed  her,  and  the  little  money  he 
left  went  to  relatives  in  England.  From  that  time  for- 
ward, ill-luck  dogged  the  young  man's  steps.  He 
wandered  over  South  Africa  ;  returned  to  Australia, 
and  wandered  over  the  Continent.  Now  and  then  fate 
seemed  propitious ;  but  a  year's  plenty  ended  in  invari- 
able and  familiar  disaster.  Again  and  again  he  set  out 
penniless  to  retrieve  his  fortunes.  He  had  done  all 
things  whereby  the  vagrant  man  in  a  new  country  earns 
precarious  livelihood.  He  had  prospected  for  gold; 
served  the  hard  servitude  of  sheep-farms  ;  laboured  at 
the  soil;  performed  menial  offices  in  cities;  begged  his 
way  from  station  to  station.  This  had  been  his  life  till 
thirty.  Strangely  enough,  he  had  not  the  instinct  of  the 
colonist,  the  shiftful  man  that  turns  to  profit  everything 
that  comes  to  his  hand.  He  was  constitutionally  shy, 
trustful,  easily  imposed  upon,  one  whose  individuality 
did  not  impress  itself  upon  others ;  and  yet  with  a 
dogged  will  that  bore  him  uncrushed  from  one  reverse 
to  another.  At  last  he  heard  of  new  settlements  far  up 
country.  He  started  penniless,  friendless,  staring  at 
starvation.  And  on  that  journey  he  met  the  man  who 
died,  and  from  the  dead  man's  pocket  he  drew  his  vast 
wealth. 

He  prayed  that  night  for  guidance,  as  he  had  not 
prayed  for  many  years.  This  wealth  was  not  his.  It 
belonged  to  the  heirs  of  the  dead  man.  Its  vastness 
filled  him  with  terror.  At  dawn  he  awoke  Cudby,  then 

94 


The  Usurper 

a  shivering  wretch  recovering  from  rheumatic  fever, 
through  which  he  had  tended  him  night  and  day,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  poured  out  his  heart  to 
another.  And  the  little  man  soothed  him,  and  reconciled 
him  with  his  conscience,  and  bade  him  accept  bravely 
the  responsibilities  of  his  fortune. 

From  that  hour  the  touch  of  Jasper  Vellacot  was  as 
that  of  King  Midas.  Under  it  all  things  turned  to  gold. 
He  lost  his  scruples.  His  head  reeled  with  colossal 
speculations.  The  months  flew  by  on  whirlwind  wings, 
like  the  hours  of  the  gambler.  He  grew  dazed,  be- 
wildered by  the  cataract  of  wealth  that  fell  about  him. 
He  lost  sleep,  appetite,  conscience. 

At  last,  one  day,  came  the  lightning  flash  that  changed 
his  life,  as  another  flash  changed  Saul's.  Cudby  and 
himself  were  travelling  from  Adelaide  to  Brisbane. 
The  train  stopped  at  a  small  station.  Another  train 
going  in  an  opposite  direction  stood  beside  them.  And 
there  in  the  carriage  next  to  them,  his  face  framed  by 
the  window,  sat  the  man  whom  he  had  left  for  dead 
in  the  shanty  in  the  bush.  There  was  no  mistake. 
The  features  were  too  well  remembered.  And  the 
curious  circular  scar  on  his  cheek  left  no  doubt  of  his 
identity.  The  man  did  not  look  aside,  but  sat  like  a 
sphinx  staring  in  front  of  him.  Jasper  made  a  sudden 
step  to  pull  open  the  window,  then  reeled,  fell  back 
fainting  in  Cudby's  arms.  The  trains  moved  on.  The 
living  man  he  had  thought  dead  was  carried  irrevocably 
out  of  his  life.  For  Jasper  this  was  the  shock  that 
determined  a  general  break-down,  primarily  caused  by 

95 


The  Usurper 

the  tension  of  the  past  two  years.  He  lay  long  ill. 
He  rose  from  his  bed  an  altered  man.  The  wealth 
that  was  another's  lay  upon  him  like  a  curse.  His  soul 
hated  it.  Every  effort  to  find  the  man  failed.  For 
years  he  employed  all  the  resources  of  his  wealth.  At 
last  he  abandoned  the  search.  Why  the  man  had  never 
come  to  claim  the  land  to  which  he  had  been  entitled 
was  an  insoluble  enigma.  For  the  name  of  Jasper 
Vellacot  the  millionaire  was  known  all  the  world 
over. 

u  Let  me  interview  him  alone,"  said  Cudby.  "  I  can 
arrange  the  preliminaries  of  a  settlement  better  than 
you/' 

"  Settlement  ?  "  echoed  Jasper.  "  Every  penny  is  his. 
The  clothes  you  and  I  stand  up  in." 

He  rose,  took  three  or  four  turns  in  the  room.  Then 
stood  before  Cudby,  his  hands  deep  in  his  pockets,  his 
face  like  corrugated  iron. 

"  Fetch  him  in.     I  will  see  him  at  once." 

"  For  God's  sake,  think  of  the  consequences,  Jasper," 
cried  Cudby. 

"  Do  as  I  say,"  replied  Jasper.  "  You  can  remain 
as  a  witness." 

Cudby  unlocked  a  drawer,  took  from  it  a  revolver, 
which  he  slipped  into  his  pocket. 

u  One  never  knows,"  he  remarked. 

"  Put  that  away,"  said  Jasper  sternly.  And  as  Cudby 
hesitated,  he  broke  out  in  anger.  "  Damn  it,  do  as  I 
tell  you,  Tom." 


The  Usurper 

Cudby  obeyed.  u  If  I  had  my  ass  Dapple,  we 
should  be  complete,"  said  he,  retiring. 

The  reference  to  the  immortal  knight  was  lost  upon 
Jasper,  who  moved  across  the  room  and  took  up  his 
position  on  the  hearth-rug,  with  his  back  against  the 
mantel-piece.  His  heart  beat  achingly. 

"This  is  Mr.  Burke,"  said  Cudby,  introducing  the 
dead-beat.  He  closed  the  door  behind  them,  left  the 
man  on  the  threshold,  and  took  up  his  position  beside 
Jasper. 

Jasper  looked  in  the  man's  face  long  and  piercingly 
from  beneath  his  overhanging  brows.  There  was  silence ; 
a  state  of  tension.  The  man  dropped  his  cap,  picked 
it  up,  and  looked  with  watery  eyes  from  one  to  the 
other.  He  uttered  no  word.  To  Jasper  it  seemed  as 
if  he  had  been  searching  the  man's  face  through  all  the 
ages.  This  was  the  man  he  had  left  for  dead.  This 
was  the  man  he  had  robbed.  This  was  the  man  whom 
he  had  seen  two  years  later  in  the  railway  carriage. 
This  was  the  face  that  had  haunted  his  sleep.  This 
was  the  rightful  owner  of  all  his  possessions.  This  was 
Jasper  Vellacot,  the  cousin  of  Lady  Alicia  Harden,  — 
this  wrecked,  pallid,  ignoble  creature.  The  man  had 
very  small  hands.  He  remembered  noticing  their  deli- 
cacy when  he  crossed  them  over  his  breast.  Now  they 
shook.  The  man  returned  his  gaze  uneasily. 

"  Well,"  said  Jasper  at  last,  and  his  voice  seemed 
remote  and  toneless  in  his  own  ears.  "  Tell  me  what 
you  want." 

u  I  come  from  the  gentleman  in  San  Francisco," 
7  97 


The  Usurper 

replied  the  man.  u  This  is  the  letter  of  indication,  sir. 
He  told  me  you  would  give  me  some  assistance.  I  've 
been  down  on  my  luck  for  many  a  year." 

"  Is  that  all  you  want  ? "  asked  Jasper,  in  the  same 
voice. 

The  man  made  a  deprecating  gesture.  "  I  only  want 
to  be  put  on  my  legs  again,  sir." 

Jasper's  jaw  dropped.  His  stern  gaze  turned  into 
one  of  stupefied  amazement.  Was  it  possible  that  the 
man  did  not  recognise  him  ?  It  was  incredible.  But 
neither  the  face  nor  the  voice  nor  the  words  of  the  man 
shewed  the  faintest  sign  of  recognition. 

u  I  was  given  to  understand  that  if  I  presented  this 
paper  you  might  find  me  a  berth,"  said  he. 

"  Yes,  quite  so,  quite  so,"  said  Jasper,  bewildered. 

Cudby  drew  a  deep  breath,  fixed  his  gold-rimmed  eye- 
glass firmly  in  his  eye.  Grasping  the  situation,  he 
stepped  forward  in  a  brisk,  businesslike  way,  and  took 
the  document  from  the  wastrel's  hand. 

"  Ah,  this  is  from  Mr.  Kelly.  Yes,  it 's  quite  in 
order.  That  your  real  name  —  Burke  ?  "  he  inquired 
casually. 

"  Yes,  sir.     That 's  my  name.      Henry  Burke." 

u  You  never  had  another  ?  " 

"  Not  that  I  know  of." 

cc  Sit  down  for  a  bit,  and  let  Mr.  Vellacot  hear  all 
about  you,"  said  Cudby,  cheerily.  He  pushed  a  chair  to 
the  man,  who  sat  down.  Then  he  drew  Jasper  to  the 
further  end  of  the  room. 

u  Thank  God,  it 's  a  mare's  nest,"  he  whispered. 
98 


The  Usurper 

"  No,"  returned  Jasper,  struggling  with  his  self-con- 
trol. "  It  is  the  man.  Every  moment  recalls  a  fresh 
memory.  He  has  a  heart  tattooed  on  his  left  forearm. 
Ask  him.'* 

Cudby  went  to  the  table,  took  up  some  papers,  glanced 
through  them. 

"  Yes,"  he  said.  "  It  seems  all  right.  Personal  de- 
scription tallies.  We  must  get  the  identification  right, 
Mr.  Burke.  There  have  been  such  things  as  people 
assuming  another's  identity.  And  that  would  n't  do, 
would  it  ?  " 

Not  a  betraying  muscle  twitched  on  the  man's  features 
beneath  the  narrow  scrutiny  of  two  pairs  of  eyes. 

u  I  'm  the  right  man,  sir,"  said  Burke. 

u  Mr.  Kelly  says  something  here  about  tattoo-marks," 
said  Cudby,  mendaciously. 

"  This  is  all  I  've  got,"  replied  the  other,  pulling  up 
his  left  coat-sleeve. 

And  there  on  the  forearm  was  a  heart,  as  Jasper 
remembered. 

"  That  proves  it  beyond  a  doubt,  Cudby,"  said  Jasper, 
slowly.  Then  he  turned  a  sharp  glance  on  Burke. 

"  Have  you  never  met  me  before  —  in  Australia  ?  " 

a  Not  that  I  remember,  sir." 

u  You  had  an  illness  ten  years  ago  —  a  severe  illness 
—  in  the  bush  up  Torowoto  way." 

Burke  started  to  his  feet. 

u  How,  in  the  name  of  God,  do  you  know  that  ?  "  he 
exclaimed. 

"  Ah  !  "  struck  in  Cudby,  with  his  head  on  one  side, 
99 


The  Usurper 

"  that  does  n't  quite  hang  with  the  story  you  told  Mr. 
Kelly.  As  for  our  knowing  it,  well,  it 's  Mr.  Vellacot's 
business  to  know  everything.  There  's  precious  little 
we  don't  know. 

'  The  Emperor's  court  is  like  the  house  of  Fame, 
The  palace  full  of  tongues  and  eyes  and  ears.*  " 

"  Have  you  lost  your  memory  ?  "  asked  Jasper. 

Burke  did  not  meet  his  glance.  He  shifted  uneasily  in 
his  chair.  His  manner  grew  sullen. 

"  There  's  lots  of  things  I  can't  remember,  and  lots 
of  things  I  won't,"  said  he.  "Yes,  I  must  have  lost 
my  memory." 

"  That  illness  in  the  bush  ?  "  said  Jasper. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  replied  Burke,  shortly. 

u  Don't  get  angry,"  said  Cudby. 

"  I  don't  think  it 's  fair  to  cross-examine  a  man  on 
his  past  life,"  said  Burke.  "  If  I  had  lived  like  a  Sun- 
day-school book,  I  should  n't  have  come  down  to  this. 
What  tramp's  life  would  bear  looking  into,  sir  ? "  he 
asked,  addressing  Jasper,  —  and  there  seemed  to  Jasper 
to  lurk  a  baffling  expression  in  the  man's  watery  eyes, 
"  You  yourself  sir,  have  roughed  it  a  bit,  and  ought 
to  know." 

"Whatever  you  tell  me  about  yourself  shall  be  of 
your  own  free-will,"  said  Jasper. 

u  Well,  sir,  I  'm  stone-broke.  I  'm  not  in  good  health. 
I  can't  do  manual  labour.  If  you  could  help  a  poor 
devil  to  earn  a  decent  living,  I  should  be  grateful." 

"  Can  you  write  a  good  hand  ?  " 
100 


The  Usurper 

"  Yes.  I  've  been  a  clerk  in  my  time.  I  've  been 
most  things." 

Jasper  noted  the  ragged  and  dirty  condition  of  the 
man,  his  trembling  ringers,  his  unhealthy  skin.  He 
drew  four  bank-notes  out  of  a  pocket-book  and  handed 
them  to  Burke. 

"  Go  and  get  yourself  a  set  of  respectable  clothes, 
and  when  you  've  put  them  on,  come  and  see  me  again. 
I  may  want  a  clerk  myself." 

Burke  regarded  him  with  an  expression  in  which  the 
tramp's  professional  gratitude  mingled  curiously  with 
sullen  suspicion.  He  muttered  thanks.  Cudby  shewed 
him  out,  accompanied  him  into  the  passage. 

"  Order  a  decent  rig  out,  please,"  said  Cudby.  "  No 
loud  checks  and  thunder  and  lightning  ties." 

"  I  know  the  way  gentlemen  dress.  None  better," 
replied  Burke. 

Cudby  returned  to  the  library.  Jasper's  face  had 
grown  haggard. 

u  Do  you  doubt  still  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  little  man  threw  himself  into  a  seat.  The  brisk 
debonair  manner  in  which  he  had  spoken  to  Burke  was 
gone,  and  his  face  was  profoundly  troubled.  He  rubbed 
his  cropped  grizzled  head. 

"  No.     You  're  right.     It 's  the  man." 

"  He  knows  me,"  said  Jasper. 

"  He  does  n't." 

"  He  is  playing  some  deep  game." 

"  No,  no,  Jasper.  His  memory  has  gone.  The  ill- 
ness and  drink  have  done  for  him.  He  's  no  good  for 

101 


The  Usurper 

anything.  Has  n't  the  nerve  to  play  a  game  like 
that." 

"  What  does  it  matter  ?  The  loss  of  memory  does 
not  alienate  his  rights.  Whichever  is  the  case,  I  must 
re-establish  him,  account  to  him  for  my  stewardship. 
Man  alive  !  don't  you  see  I  must  face  it  ? " 

u  Give  him  everything,  Jasper  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Jasper,  hoarsely.  "  Everything.  It  is 
his.  I  have  been  a  thief  these  ten  years,  but  it  has 
been  against  my  will.  Everything  belongs  to  this  man. 
He  must  have  it." 

"  Have  you  the  right  to  dispose  of  it  ?  "  asked  Cudby. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  You  are  not  the  only  party  interested  in  the  disposal 
of  all  this  money." 

u  I  alone,"  said  Jasper. 

u  Pardon  me.  Your  personal  interests  are  the  least 
important.  Thousands  are  eating  your  bread.  The 
happiness  of  thousands  is  in  your  hands." 

"  My  God,"  said  Jasper,  the  truth  dawning  awfully 
upon  him. 

"  You  have  usurped  a  kingdom,  my  dear,  my  very  dear 
king  and  hero  and  friend,"  said  Cudby,  with  great 
earnestness.  u  And  you  have  taken  on  your  shoulders  a 
kingdom's  responsibilities.  Many  a  crowned  monarch 
has  wielded  less  power  than  you.  The  welfare  of  your 
people,  the  unknown  thousands  who  are  dependent  upon 
your  will,  binds  you  to  your  throne  with  bands  of  iron. 
You  dare  not  abdicate  in  favour  of  a  wastrel,  however 
just  his  claim,  who  would  plunge  the  whole  realm  into 

102 


The  Usurper 

chaos  and  let  your  people  starve.  You  have  n't  the 
right.  You  have  given  all  your  personal  rights  to  your 
kingdom,  and  your  kingdom  claims  you." 

"  My  God  !  "  cried  Jasper  again. 

He  clasped  his  head  in  both  hands.  His  brain  reeled 
as  the  sense  of  the  responsibilities  of  his  wealth  crashed 
down  upon  him. 


103 


CHAPTER   VIII 

"  T  TELL  you,  Bon  Ami,  that  you  are  foolish." 

JL      "  And  I  tell  you,  Vittoria,  that  you  are  beautiful." 

This  is  what  the  two  were  saying  to  each  other  when 
Jasper  looked  through  the  door  of  the  Hotel  Bomboni. 
It  was  an  edifying  and  delightfully  novel  conversation. 

"  I  am  fairly  good-looking,  perhaps  pretty,"  she 
admitted,  glancing  round  lazily  at  the  fly-blown  mirror 
behind  the  bar,  and  adjusting  the  comb  in  her  hair  so 
that  it  came  a  millionth  of  an  inch  nearer  the  centre  j 
"  but  beautiful  ?  That 's  different." 

"  It  is  my  trade  to  be  nice  in  the  use  of  the  English 
language,"  replied  Bunny.  "  I  state  a  fact  accurately 
by  saying  that  you  are  beautiful." 

"  It 's  too  hot  to  quarrel.  Suppose  it  is  so.  What 
then  ?  " 

"  There  is  no  c  then/  "  said  Bunny.  "  Beauty  is  its 
own  completion." 

"  So,  for  all  it  matters,  I  might  be  as  stupid  as  an  owl 
and  as  spiteful  as  a  cat.  I  hate  you,  Mr.  Bonamy 
Tredgold." 

She  drew  herself  up  with  a  charming  air  of  mock 
dignity. 

"  I  ought  to  go  home  and  dress  for  an  evening  party," 
remarked  the  young  man,  with  apparent  irrelevance. 

104 


The  Usurper 

"  Why  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Ubi  bene  ibi  patria.     That  's  Latin,  you  know." 

"  I  'm  glad  you  told  me.  I  might  have  thought  it  was 
Japanese.  I  believe  it  means  c  Where  I  am  well  off, 
there  is  my  fatherland; '  which  is  a  very  —  what  do  you 
call  it  when  a  man  says  beastly  things  about  his  mother 
to  shew  how  clever  he  is  ?  " 

"  Cynical  ?  "  suggested  Bunny. 

"  Yes.  Cynical.  Well,  it 's  a  very  cynical  thing  to 
say.  A  man's  country  is  his  country." 

"  I  'm  not  going  to  argue  the  point.  I  translate  my 
Latin  proverb  by  '  Paradise  is  the  spot  in  space  of  the 
moment's  happiness.'  That 's  why  I  'm  not  going  to 
my  evening  party.  And  if  you  were  as  stupid  as  an 
owl  and  as  spiteful  as  a  cat,  I  should  n't  be  happy  and 
the  Hotel  Bomboni  wouldn't  be  Paradise.  I  am  a 
logical  person,  Vittoria." 

"  I  repeat  that  you  are  foolish,  Bon  Ami,"  she  said, 
softening  and  leaning  over  the  bar  again,  her  chin  sup- 
ported in  her  palm.  The  boy  looked  into  her  eyes. 
They  were  very  deep  and  dark,  like  pools,  and  some- 
thing warm  and  mysterious  slept  far  down  beneath  the 
surface.  They  smiled,  they  invited,  they  mocked,  they 
baffled.  Long,  soft  lashes  shaded  them,  seemed  to  add 
to  their  slumberous  depths.  He  had  never  before  lost 
himself  in  such  eyes.  He  was  young,  and  he  was  a 
poet,  and  he  could  see  glories  in  many  things.  Often 
they  were  only  the  reflections  of  his  own  soul.  That 
is  where  the  poet  comes  to  grief  in  this  world.  He 
rushes  to  his  vision  of  golden  gates  leading  to  a  land  of 

IOS 


The  Usurper 

enchantment,  and  to  his  dismay  knocks  his  head  against 
a  granite  wall.  But  it  is  well  to  have  the  vision,  "  sor- 
rowful great  gift  "  though  it  be. 

Besides,  Vittoria  had  full  young  lips  and  a  delicate 
chin  and  an  adorably  sweeping  contour  of  cheek,  and 
the  warm  colour  of  health  glowed  through  her  dark  skin. 
And  her  hands  were  small  and  studiously  cared  for,  and 
the  palms  were  pink.  They  felt  like  rose  petals  when 
he  touched  them. 

Bunny,  gazing  his  fill,  shook  his  head.  "  You  are 
masquerading  here  in  this  black  dress,"  said  he.  "  You 
have  escaped  from  the  frame  in  which  Andrea  del  Sarto 
put  you  after  he  had  made  you." 

"  *  The  faultless  painter,'  "  she  murmured. 

"  Now,  how  on  earth  did  you  know  that  ?  "  he  asked, 
surprise  planting  him  back  on  the  commonplace. 

u  How  do  I  know  what  ?  "  she  asked,  straightening 
herself  up. 

"Why,  the  classical  epithet  of  Del  Sarto,"  replied 
Bunny,  u  the  senza  err  ore" 

"  Accident*  !  "  exclaimed  the  girl,  and  her  eyes  flashed 
darkly.  "  Do  you  suppose  you  have  a  monopoly  of 
general  information  —  or  the  people  you  mix  with  ?  If 
a  girl  at  the  evening  party  you  were  going  to  had  made 
that  remark,  would  you  have  asked  her  how  on  earth 
she  knew  it  ?  Tell  me,"  she  said,  stamping  her  foot. 
"  Would  you  have  asked  her  ?  " 

"  No,"  replied  Bunny,  blankly,  "  I  would  n't." 

"  But  you  ask  me,  Vittoria  Antonelli,  because  I  am  a 
low-class,  half-bred  English  and  Italian  girl  with  a  pretty 

1 06 


The  Usurper 

face  in  a  shabby  little  eating-house.  You  informed  me 
just  now  that  what  you  said  was  Latin  ;  and  you  've 
done  the  same  sort  of  thing  before,  and  I  Ve  let  it  go 
by.  But  I  'm  not  going  to  let  it  go  by  any  longer. 
It 's  hateful.  There  was  your  friend  the  other  night. 
He  was  surprised  that  I  had  read  the  Bible.  Why 
should  n't  I  read  the  Bible  and  books  that  girls  in  your 
class  of  life  read,  and  know  the  smattering  of  things 
they  know  ?  I  call  it  horrid  of  you  ! " 

The  young  goddess  was  decidedly  angry.  Her  words 
came  out  with  Italian  volubility,  and  were  accompanied 
by  Neapolitan  gesture,  flashes  of  the  hand  and  quick 
little  turns  of  her  supple  body.  Distressed  as  he  was, 
Bunny  could  not  resist  a  secret  satisfaction  in  having 
provoked  her.  She  looked  magnificent  in  her  offended 
dignity.  A  touch  of  shrewishness  would  have  brought 
vulgarity  to  spoil  the  charm.  And  though  Vittoria 
could  be  a  shrew  on  occasion,  when  she  rated  Giuseppe 
or  her  uncle  in  their  native  vernacular,  she  carried  her 
present  outburst,  either  tactfully  or  instinctively,  to  a 
higher  plane  of  indignation.  Bunny  sat  in  ashamed, 
although  admiring  silence.  She  was  unquestionably  in 
the  right.  The  consciousness  of  it  stung  the  gentleman 
within  him.  He,  Bonamy  Tredgold,  had  committed 
an  inexcusable  act  of  discourtesy  toward  a  woman,  a 
social  inferior  ;  and  he  was  suffering  rebuke  for  it  at 
her  lips.  "  Yes,  I  call  it  horrid  of  you,"  she  concluded 
with  an  emphatic  toss  of  her  shapely  head. 

So  Bunny  rose  and  made  her  a  little  courtly  bow  as 
if  she  were  a  very  great  lady. 

107 


The  Usurper 

"I  offer  you  my  sincere  apologies,  Vittoria,  and  I 
humbly  ask  your  pardon,"  said  he.  Then  he  drew  him- 
self up  and  looked  at  her  in  his  frank  way.  The  deference 
in  his  manner,  the  little  touch  of  the  aristocrat,  caught 
the  girl's  quick  appreciation.  She  softened  at  once. 

"  You  must  forgive  me  for  losing  my  temper,  Bon 
Ami.  It  is  because  I  'm  half  Italian.  If  you  had 
laughed  at  me,  I  should  have  been  capable  of  throwing 
a  knife  at  you/' 

u  I  should  have  deserved  it,  anyway,"  said  he,  "  for 
an  unpardonable  offence." 

"  But  you  must  forgive  me  too,  Bon  Ami,"  she  re- 
peated, holding  out  both  hands,  palms  downward  and 
moving  rather  shyly  towards  him.  So  they  held  hands 
over  the  counter. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  '11  never  think  me  any  more  like  a 
Madonna  by  the  faultless  painter,"  she  said,  doing  fem- 
inine penance  for  her  crime  by  dragging  into  light  the 
secretly  detested  cause  of  it. 

"You  look  more  like  one  than  ever  with  all  that 
sweet  forgiveness  in  your  eyes,"  cried  Bunny,  fervently. 

Then  she  was  pleased,  and  the  forgiveness  and  sweet- 
ness and  all  the  divine  qualities  thereto  appertaining  were 
veiled  by  a  gathering  moisture. 

"  I  want  you  to  think  well  of  me,  Bon  Ami.  You 
are  so  different  from  any  one  else,  and  so  far  above 
me." 

The  offended  young  Juno  who  had  changed  into  the 
Madonna  aforesaid  was  transformed  by  the  start  of  a 
tear  into  a  swimming-eyed,  pleading  little  girl,  all  humil- 

108 


The  Usurper 

ity  and  submission.  The  transition  of  mood  was  start- 
ling. The  effect  was  a  bewildered  young  poet  who 
expressed  his  feelings  in  language  of  a  picturesque 
confusion.  What  he  said  matters  no  great  deal ;  but 
sentiments  were  interchanged  which  resulted  in  a  com- 
plete and  satisfactory  understanding. 

Presently  Vittoria  eyed  the  clacking  little  Swiss  clock 
on  one  of  the  shelves  behind  the  bar. 

"  It  is  getting  late,  Bon  Ami,"  she  remarked  patheti- 
cally. 

He  denied  the  lateness.  Then  started  impulsively 
on  the  track  of  a  sudden  and  brilliant  idea.  Why 
should  they  always  have  to  converse  across  that  abomi- 
nable counter  ?  Why  should  n't  she  come  with  him  now 
for  a  half-hour's  ride  on  the  top  of  an  omnibus  ?  Out- 
side were  moonlight  and  starlight  and  divine  cool  air. 
He  pleaded.  She  hesitated. 

"  Do,"  said  he,  "  or  I  shall  not  feel  that  you  have 
quite  forgiven  me." 

The  venerable  plea  prevailed,  as  it  always  will  prevail. 
Vittoria  yielded,  ran  into  the  back  parlour  to  command 
her  uncle  Antonelli  to  transfer  himself,  his  dingy  shirt- 
sleeves, his  friend  and  his  game  of  dominoes  to  the  bar, 
and  soon  reappeared  driving  pins  into  a  neat  black  sailor 
hat.  A  few  minutes  afterwards  they  were  sitting  side 
by  side  on  the  front  seat  of  a  Hammersmith  omnibus. 
Bunny  talked  of  the  eternal  calm  of  the  stars  above  and 
of  the  hurrying  glittering  life  beneath  them ;  of  women 
and  wine  and  the  Hotel  Bomboni ;  drew  from  his  young 
poet's  inexhaustible  store  of  legend,  and  explained  the 

109 


The  Usurper 

proper  treatment  for  a  spavined  horse.  Vittoria  was 
gradually  accustoming  herself  to  his  discursive  talk,  and 
her  nimbler  woman's  wit  followed  him  more  closely 
than  Jasper,  who  often  puzzled  himself  to  find  relevance 
in  Bunny's  conversation.  Sometimes  she  insisted  on 
having  her  share  of  the  dialogue,  but  to-night,  being  in 
a  chastened  mood,  she  contented  herself  with  contribut- 
ing an  occasional  opinion  or  pointing  a  witty  allusion 
which  set  him  off  delightedly  on  a  fresh  track  of 
thought.  Altogether  she  enjoyed  the  ride  hugely.  But 
she  was  very  hungry.  He  had  kept  her  talking  in  the 
restaurant  long  beyond  her  usual  supper  hour.  She 
wondered  whether  he  realised  that  she  had  come  out 
supperless  just  in  order  to  obey  him.  Evidently  he  did 
not.  She  rather  admired  his  masculine  disregard  of  such 
trifles  as  a  woman's  food.  And  while  she  listened  to 
him  with  her  outer  senses,  pleased  and  smiling,  in- 
wardly she  imagined  herself  avowing  her  emptiness 
when  they  got  back  and  his  man's  exclamation  "  Why 
on  earth  did  n't  you  tell  me  ?  "  and  his  utter  inability 
to  divine  the  reason.  And  she  knew  that  she  would 
rather  starve  all  night  long  than  tell  him.  The  little 
sense  of  martyrdom  (and  the  sense  of  moral  superiority 
thereby  occasioned)  was  too  sweet.  This  is  about  the 
only  reason  that  can  be  found  for  quite  a  peculiar  class 
of  feminine  phenomena. 

By  walking  and  changes  of  omnibuses  they  completed 
the  round  :  Shaftesbury  Avenue,  Piccadilly,  Park  Lane, 
Oxford  Street,  and  Charing  Cross  Road.  When  they 
arrived  at  the  Hotel  Bomboni,  Giuseppe  was  lounging 

no 


The  Usurper 

by  the  door.  It  was  past  the  usual  hour  for  closing, 
as  no  business  was  done  in  after-theatre  suppers.  They 
parted  with  the  conventional  handshake.  Bunny  raised 
his  hat  and  started  off.  He  had  hardly  walked  half  a 
dozen  steps  when  he  heard  Giuseppe  address  her  in 
Italian,  in  a  tone,  as  he  fancied,  of  insolence.  The 
quick  blood  made  him  turn,  grip  his  stick  and  rush 
swiftly  back.  But  they  had  already  entered  as  he 
turned  ;  then  the  door  slammed,  and  all  was  dark  and 
quiet  in  the  murky  little  street.  He  laughed,  after  a 
few  seconds,  at  his  obvious  mistake  ;  for  of  all  mis- 
creants he  had  met  upon  earth,  Giuseppe  was  the  most 
servile  to  his  superiors. 

So  while  Vittoria  and  Giuseppe  in  the  privacy  of  the 
closed  restaurant  exchanged  views  as  to  each  other  in 
choice  Neapolitan,  Bunny  marched  with  the  swinging 
pace  and  the  light  heart  of  three  and  twenty  home  to 
Great  Coram  Street,  his  head  full  of  his  Andrea  del  Sarto 
Madonna.  There  he  sat  up  till  half-past  two  o'clock, 
writing  and  polishing  an  impassioned  little  poem  full 
of  the  dusky  splendours  and  the  glowing  mysteries  of 
Vittoria's  eyes.  So  good  did  he  know  it  to  be  that  he 
made  a  fair  copy  and  posted  it  straight  off  to  the  weekly 
review  that  had  the  honour  of  printing  most  of  the  fugi- 
tive poems  of  Mr.  Bonamy  Tredgold.  Then  he  went 
to  bed,  and  slept  the  profound  and  solid  sleep  of  youth 
till  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning. 

This  poem  was  the  first  of  a  series  which  afterwards 
were  collected  together  under  the  title  of  Carm'ma  Amorls. 
To  speak  of  the  collection  is  to  anticipate  events;  it 

in 


The  Usurper 

is  sufficient  now  to  say  that  the  weekly  love  poem 
in  the  review  attracted  considerable  public  notice  and 
increased  Bunny's  reputation.  For  reputation,  if  noth- 
ing else  more  substantial,  he  had  succeeded  in  achieving. 
His  little  volume  of  poems  had  fallen  eighteen  months 
before  like  rain  upon  a  parched  land.  The  old  poets 
had  gone ;  and  though  they  had  voiced  the  eternal 
verities,  yet  they  had  voiced  them  through  the  aspira- 
tions of  their  own  times.  The  new  generation  found 
itself  unexpressed.  There  were  many  men,  truly  ranked 
as  poets,  of  graceful  fancy,  of  prophetic  vision,  of 
trumpet  clangour,  of  classic  calm,  of  symbolic  revela- 
tion, who  spoke  to  England.  But  these  did  not  satisfy. 
There  is  a  thirst  in  the  souls  of  men  for  the  sane  magic 
of  the  music  that  can  harmonise  all  the  complexities  of 
their  life  into  that  which  is  elemental,  unchanging,  eternal. 
The  great  utterance  had  been  wanting  and  men  had  striven 
to  find  comfort  in  lesser  voices.  So  when  this  young  man 
had  come  with  his  careless,  tumultuous  burst  of  song,  the 
men  who  had  been  watching  the  arid  sky  welcomed  him 
with  grateful  hearts  and  prophesied  concerning  him. 

Bunny  took  his  success  with  much  the  same  feeling 
of  elation  as  when  he  had  walked  to  the  cricket  pavilion 
amid  the  cheers  of  his  side  after  making  his  sixty  or 
seventy  runs.  It  was  jolly  to  make  runs,  it  was  jolly  to 
write  poetry,  and  it  was  jolly  to  have  one's  skill  appre- 
ciated. He  was  too  young,  too  wholesome,  too  boyish  to 
have  his  head  turned.  It  was  a  far  more  important  mat- 
ter to  him  to  earn  his  living ;  and  he  was  not  quite  sure 
of  his  livelihood  even  now. 

112 


The  Usurper 

He  had  been  accustomed  to  spend  money  freely.  At 
home,  in  Cornwall,  he  had  horses  to  ride  and  covers  to 
shoot,  and  a  valet  to  help  him  on  with  his  trousers.  All 
this  came  to  an  end  at  the  beginning  of  his  third  year  at 
Cambridge,  when  his  father  died  hopelessly  involved  in 
financial  difficulties,  leaving  Bunny  to  face  the  world 
with  thirty  pounds  a  year,  and  a  pretty  talent  for  verses. 
He  came  to  London,  too  proud  to  seek  the  help  or 
patronage  of  his  friends,  and  began  to  write.  He  scraped 
along  somehow,  struggling  with  very  fierce  poverty.  At 
one  period  he  lived  in  a  garret  up  Islington  way,  and 
subsisted  chiefly  on  two  pennyworths  of  fried  fish,  and 
a  weekly  orgy  of  meat,  which  he  bought  at  selling-off 
prices  late  on  Saturday  night  in  Farrington  Street,  and 
cooked,  according  to  a  recipe  evolved  out  of  his  inner 
consciousness,  in  a  borrowed  frying-pan,  over  his  land- 
lady's kitchen  fire.  One  can  do  these  things  and  enjoy 
them  when  one  is  twenty,  and  not  too  cold  and  hungry. 
It  all  depends  whether  hope  is  in  front  or  behind  you. 
The  first  regular  work  that  he  found  was  on  the  "  Isling- 
ton Weekly  Chronicle."  Then  a  poem  or  two  found  its 
way  into  a  London  evening  newspaper  ;  he  called  on 
the  editor,  who  agreed  to  accept  a  weekly  contribution. 
Gradually  work  came,  and  he  moved  to  Great  Coram 
Street,  and  fed  himself  on  choicer  viands.  He  managed 
generally  to  make  both  ends  meet,  but  occasionally  there 
was  a  gap.  Though  constitutionally  spendthrift,  he  was 
peculiarly  sensitive  in  the  matter  of  debt.  His  horror 
of  it,  a  reaction  perhaps  against  his  father's  extravagance 
and  unscrupulous  borrowing,  caused  him  to  undergo 
8  113 


The  Usurper 

avoidable  privations.  If  he  had  no  money  to  pay  for 
his  dinner,  he  went  without  it,  as  he  had  done  on  the  day 
of  his  first  meeting  with  Jasper.  But  that  was  the  last 
day  of  his  fasting,  for  money  had  been  coming  in  more 
steadily  since  then,  and  to  his  great  satisfaction  he  had 
been  able  to  afford  a  pair  of  patent-leather  boots  for 
evening  parties. 

So  Bunny,  "rich  in  the  glory  of  his  rising  sun,"  led 
an  enviable  though  precarious  existence.  Many  liter- 
ary houses  in  London  were  open  to  him.  More  than 
one  woman  sighed  after  him,  and  treasured  his  notes  of 
reply  to  invitations.  Lady  Alicia  petted  him  to  the  full 
extent  of  cousinly  privileges.  But  Bunny  remained  un- 
spoiled by  feminine  flattery,  and  the  young  barbarian 
in  him  went  forth  instinctively  to  find  a  mate  in  the 
Hotel  Bomboni,  where  Vittoria's  splendid  womanhood 
sat  enthroned.  It  was  her  glowing  vitality  that  com- 
pelled him.  His  nature  demanded  of  life  its  colour  and 
strength  and  joyousness.  The  delicate  fair  women  in 
his  own  social  circle  lacked  the  fulness  of  the  inspiring 
wine.  In  Vittoria  he  seemed  to  find  the  complete 
woman ;  of  warm  glad  beauty  in  face  and  form  ;  of 
bewildering  mood  ;  of  strong  intelligence  quick  to  grasp. 
She  was  the  untamable  creature,  sex  to  the  inmost, 
whose  yieldings  were  of  infinite  seduction.  She  prom- 
ised fulfilment  of  his  needs.  The  glamour  of  her  beauty 
blinded  him  to  her  imperfections.  And  these,  as  far  as 
it  was  not  in  her  power  to  hide  them,  were  not  numer- 
ous or  important.  The  pretty  Italian  accent  saved  her 
speech  from  the  vulgarity  of  Cockneyism;  added,  in 

114 


The  Usurper 

fact,  a  curious  charm  to  her  talk.  Her  manners  had 
a  cat's  innate  gracefulness.  An  artistic  temperament 
helped  by  a  certain  superficial  education  kept  her  taste 
refined.  Her  woman's  tact  and  instinct  of  adaptability 
shewed  her  how  to  tread  without  jarring  upon  the  sus- 
ceptibilities of  gentle  breeding.  When  she  talked  with 
Bunny  she  lived  in  a  network  of  quivering  little  feminine 
instincts.  The  ugly  things  in  her  life  she  put  aside 
with  a  woman's  power  of  abstraction. 

The  omnibus  ride  was  the  first  of  many  jaunts.  It 
was  much  pleasanter  to  walk  round  the  calm  Blooms- 
bury  squares,  or  to  wander  in  the  Regent's  Park,  than  to 
sit  in  the  summer  heat  of  the  reeking  little  restaurant, 
exposed  to  the  gaze  and  comments  of  the  vulgar.  They 
could  talk  more  freely,  forgetful  of  the  dividing  counter. 
One  Sunday  they  had  a  long  and  delightful  day  in 
Epping  Forest.  How  was  he  to  know  the  sordid  miseries 
in  which  she  paid  for  these  outings  !  He  saw  her  as 
radiant  and  as  glad  with  life  as  himself  or  the  great  oaks 
that  waved  the  fulness  of  their  green  June  glory  above 
their  heads. 

She  had  taken  off  her  hat,  and  was  lying  with  her 
head  against  the  root  of  a  tree.  Bunny  sat  close  by,  em- 
bracing his  knees,  a  cigarette  between  his  lips.  She 
looked  up  among  the  leaves,  and  murmured  something 
to  herself.  Then  she  glanced  quickly  at  him. 

u  I  wonder  whether  any  one  will  ever  write  poetry 
like  that  about  me,"  she  said. 

"  What  poetry  ?  " 

She  moved,  leant  forward,  and  repeated,  at  first  hesi- 


The  Usurper 

tatingly,  but  soon,  gathering  confidence,  with  glow  and 
meaning,  and  perfect  appreciation  of  thought  and 
rhythm,  his  lyric  in  "  The  Weekly  Review "  of  the 
day  before.  The  southern  accent,  the  rich  low  tones 
of  her  voice,  lent  an  indescribable  passion  to  the  little 
verses.  Bunny  sat  open-mouthed. 

u  My  God  !  "  he  cried,  starting  to  his  knees,  u  what 
music  you  give  to  it !  I  had  no  idea  it  was  as  good  as 
that  !  You  have  never  told  me  that  you  read  these 
things  of  mine.  Do  you  remember  any  others  ?  " 

She  repeated  the  first  of  the  series.  Bunny  knelt 
entranced. 

"  I  never  dreamed  it  could  be  like  that,"  he  said 
again.  "  You  seem  to  have  filled  up  a  skeleton  with 
warm  flesh  and  blood,  and  the  magic  of  passion  and 
life." 

She  smiled  and  shook  her  head,  her  eyes  in  his.  "  No, 
Bon  Ami,  no." 

"  But  I  say,  yes,  yes,"  insisted  the  fervent  young  man. 

"  And  I  say  no  again.  It 's  no  use  arguing,  Bon 
Ami.  The  poems  are  beautiful.  They  make  me  feel 
all  sorts  of  things.  If  I  were  clever  I  could  explain; 
but  I  can't.  They  made  me  wish  they  were  about  me." 

"  But,  confound  it  all ! "  cried  Bunny,  springing  to  his 
feet  and  dashing  his  straw  hat  to  the  back  of  his 
head,  "  they  were  about  you.  Every  blessed  word 
and  thought.  It  is  you  from  your  feet  to  your  hair. 
Your  eyes,  your  bosom,  your  heart,  your  soul,  your 
everything !  " 

She  grew  suddenly  quite  pale, 
116 


The  Usurper 

u  You  mean  me  ? "  she  asked,  putting  her  hand  to 
her  breast. 

u  Of  course,  you,"  said  Bunny. 

"  I  thought  —  I  thought,"  said  the  girl,  lamely,  "  it  was 
about  no  one  in  particular  —  that  it  was  just  poetry." 

"  I  hope  it  is  just  poetry,"  laughed  Bunny.  "  You 
have  made  me  believe  it  is  deuced  good  poetry.  But 
it  *s  the  gloriousest  creature  on  God's  earth  that  has 
inspired  it." 

She  rose  and  turned  away  from  him  and  shook  the 
twigs  and  dust  from  her  skirt.  She  could  not  bear  him 
to  see  the  pain  that  rose  into  her  eyes. 

"  Don't  you  think  it 's  time  for  us  to  look  about  for 
some  tea  ?  "  she  asked  in  an  even  voice.  But  Bunny 
was  by  her  side  and  his  touch  upon  her  shoulder. 

"  I  have  n't  vexed  you,  have  I  ?  I  could  n't  help  writ- 
ing of  you.  And  I  mean  every  word  I  have  said  in 
those  poems." 

u  Of  course  I  'm  not  vexed,"  she  answered,  half 
turning.  "  But  if  you  talk  about  it  any  more  I  shall 
cry.  And  if  I  cry,"  she  added  with  the  familiar  im- 
patient stamp  of  her  little  foot,  "  I  shall  hate  you  !  " 

"But  you  said  you  wished  the  poems  had  been  about 
you,"  said  the  mystified  poet. 

"  Don't  you  know  that  to  wish  is  better  than  to  have  ? 
All  that  one  has  is  horrible.  Oh,  come  and  look  for  tea 
and  let  us  not  talk  about  it." 

She  went  on,  Bunny  by  her  side.  To  his  masculine 
intellect  this  mood  was  incomprehensible.  The  only 
rational  explanation  was  that  she  had  taken  offence  at 

117 


The  Usurper 

his  using  her  personality  for  purposes  of  "  copy."  She 
walked  with  head  averse.  Black  clouds  gathered  over 
Bunny's  heaven.  There  was  a  long  silence.  His  brow 
was  perplexity  incarnate.  Presently  she  slid  her  hand 
beneath  his  arm  and  drew  close  to  him,  and  he  felt  a 
little  happier.  Then  her  long  lashes  slowly  uplifted 
and  her  dark  eyes  sought  his. 

"  I  'm  the  proudest  girl  in  all  the  world  to-day,"  she 
said  in  a  voice  of  perilous  softness.  "  But  you  mustn't 
talk  to  me  of  such  things,  Bon  Ami.  If  you  do  I 
shall  never,  never  come  out  with  you  again.  You 
would  n't  like  me  to  hate  you,  would  you  ?  "  she  asked, 
with  a  sudden  change  to  fierceness. 

Then  Bunny  grew  fierce.  He  threw  his  strong 
young  arms  around  her,  and,  despite  her  struggles,  kissed 
her,  for  the  first  time,  twice  on  the  lips. 

u  I  don't  care  what  you  do,"  said  he. 

After  that  she  went  on  submissively.  The  reaction 
from  the  sudden  whirl  of  passion  left  him  silent.  For 
a  little  while  they  walked  almost  as  enemies  strangely 
suspicious.  Presently  he  began  to  feel  an  irritable  desire 
to  know  what  was  passing  through  her  mind,  mingled 
with  self-reproach  for  having  taken  brutal  advantage  of 
her  lesser  physical  strength. 

"  Vittoria,"  he  began. 

The  woman  seized  triumphantly  on  the  apologetic 
note.  She  had  been  waiting  for  it. 

"  I  forgive  you,"  she  said.  u  But  you  are  a  gentle- 
man, Bon  Ami ;  and  I  must  beg  you  never,  never,  never 
to  refer  to  this  again." 

IE* 


The  Usurper 

Her  attitude  of  dignified  pardon  precluded  further 
demonstration  of  passion,  even  of  explanation.  Bunny 
bowed,  and  they  talked  on  general  topics  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  afternoon.  Although  he  strove  to  amuse 
and  interest,  he  was  much  cast  down.  He  had  ob- 
viously spoiled  her  outing,  and  was  deeply  touched  by 
the  sweet  resignation  with  which  she  accepted  his  de- 
testable society.  When  they  were  parting  at  the  door 
of  the  Hotel  Bomboni,  he  wondered  whether  it  would 
be  an  effort  for  her  to  shake  hands  with  him. 

What  was  his  bewildering  amazement  when,  having 
opened  the  side  door  with  her  latch  key,  she  took  his 
hand,  raised  it  to  her  mouth,  kissed  it,  wrung  it  hard, 
and  disappeared  like  a  flash,  slamming  the  door  behind 
her. 

After  that,  Bunny  entirely  gave  up  trying  to  under- 
stand Vittoria. 


119 


CHAPTER   IX 

BUNNY'S  Epping  Forest  adventure  took  place  some 
five  weeks  after  the  advent   of  the  man   Burke. 
During    these    weeks    Burke    had    been    living    under 
Jasper's   roof,  while  Jasper  brooded  over  his  tremen- 
dous problem. 

The  decision  was  too  momentous  to  be  made  hur- 
riedly. All  that  first  day  of  upheaval  he  had  remained 
silent,  and  Cudby,  knowing  the  nature  of  the  man,  for- 
bore to  question  him  or  to  insist  further  upon  his  argu- 
ment. Especial  weight  was  added  thereto  by  the  day's 
business.  It  seemed  to  be  almost  purposely  arranged  so 
as  to  stimulate  the  imagination  with  regard  to  the  enor- 
mous interests  involved  in  the  possession  of  his  wealth. 
Returns  of  labour  employed  in  the  mines,  formal  docu- 
ments ordinarily  set  aside  after  a  casual  glance,  became 
significant  of  thousands  depending  for  their  livelihood 
upon  one  man's  act.  The  schedule  of  wages  shewed  a 
rate  of  pay  higher  than  that  fixed  by  economic  condi- 
tions. The  report  of  some  trivial  alterations  to  a 
miners'  club-house  and  reading-room,  one  of  many  in 
three  continents,  proclaimed  his  personal  interest  in  the 
welfare  of  those  who  toiled  in  his  service.  A  cable- 
gram from  Wall  Street  invited  him  to  join  the  sender 
in  forming  a  corner  in  some  commodity.  The  coup  in 
the  special  circumstances  and  with  his  inexhaustible 

120 


The  Usurper 

capital  was  sure  to  be  successful.  A  less  scrupulous 
man  would  not  have  hesitated  an  instant.  But  Jasper, 
knowing  the  ruin  it  would  cause  to  hundreds  of  small 
dealers,  refused  curtly.  He  was  aware,  too,  that  his  re- 
fusal rendered  the  scheme  impracticable.  The  letter 
from  Erskine  the  architect  about  his  difficulties  with  the 
Borough  Surveyor  suggested  but  one  of  his  philan- 
thropic enterprises.  A  begging  letter  from  a  hospital 
secretary  necessitated  reference  to  the  list  of  institutions 
that  benefited  by  his  yearly  subscription.  It  had  never 
struck  Cudby  or  himself  before  how  long  that  list  was, 
how  important  the  sums  assigned.  A  telegram  from 
the  North  Ham  branch  of  a  Trade-Union  thanked  him 
for  last  night's  speech.  He  knew  that  through  his 
efforts  alone  would  the  Minister's  half-pledge  be  re- 
deemed and  legislation  effected  concerning  the  welfare 
of  every  factory  hand  in  the  kingdom.  And  this  was 
but  a  foreshadowing  of  the  immeasurable  political  power 
that  his  will  and  his  wealth  might  create  for  him  in  the 
future. 

These  vast  interests  had  arisen  one  by  one,  had  been 
elaborated  one  by  one.  The  organisation  of  each  under- 
taking had  been  simple  and  separate ;  and  once  the  or- 
ganisation had  been  effected,  it  was  merely  a  matter  of 
keeping  the  machinery  going.  The  process  had  been  so 
gradual,  the  executive  authority  in  a  hundred  departments 
perforce  so  delegated,  that  he  had  never  realised  the  in- 
tegrated mass  of  his  responsibilities.  He  saw  himself  now 
the  keystone  of  a  colossal  fabric.  He  was  the  very  heart 
of  a  stupendous  machine  with  human  lives  for  cogs  and 

121 


The  Usurper 

wheels.  That  keystone  removed,  that  heart  stilled,  all 
would  be  chaos,  confusion,  ruin.  Cudby  had  not  talked 
the  picturesque  language  of  exaggeration.  He  was  a  king, 
an  absolute  monarch ;  almost  with  the  power  of  life  and 
death  in  his  hands.  There  were  corners  of  his  kingdom 
that  he  knew  but  vaguely.  It  was  of  the  nature  of  a 
shock  to  remember  that,  in  fact,  he  was  the  owner  of  a 
cotton  mill  in  Lancashire.  It  was  worked  under  the 
name  of  the  previous  owners  :  he  knew  nothing  about  its 
management  ;  but  a  couple  of  years  ago,  his  signature 
on  a  few  scraps  of  paper  had  brought  the  mill  absolutely 
into  his  possession.  Here  were  some  other  odd  hun- 
dreds of  human  souls  dependent  upon  him,  for  whose 
welfare  he  had  as  yet  done  nothing.  Where  his  direct 
responsibilities  ended  no  man  could  tell. 

Once  during  the  day  he  laughed  mirthlessly.  Cudby 
raised  his  head  and  darted  a  sharp,  birdlike  glance. 

u  That  South-American  Republic  —  last  year.  Would 
I  finance  the  revolutionary  party  ?  Dictate  my  own 
terms.  Ha  !  My  God  !  I  could  have  run  a  whole 
nation  !  " 

Once  again,  in  the  evening,  he  spoke  of  the 
matter. 

u  No  man  is  indispensable.     What  if  I  died  ?  " 

Said  Cudby  :  "  Better  so.  You  have  made  an  elaborate 
will.  Everyone  would  be  provided  for.  Living,  you  have 
chosen  to  take  things  into  your  own  hands.  You  give 
subscriptions,  not  endowments.  You  love  giving ;  but 
you  love  the  power  of  taking  away.  You  don't  like  to 
surrender  your  working  interest  in  any  concern." 

122 


The  Usurper 

«  Tom,  have  you  read  me  like  that  ?  "  said  Jasper,  sadly. 
"  It 's  true,  Heaven  forgive  me.  I  've  hated  the  wealth, 
but  I  've  loved  exercising  the  power.  Good  Lord  !  what 
vanity  there  is  in  man." 

Cudby  patted  him  affectionately  on  the  shoulder.  It 
was  a  harmless  vanity  ;  one  of  the  weaknesses  that  en- 
dear. Shakespeare,  as  usual,  supported  his  statement. 

u  Again,"  said  he,  changing  ground,  "  if  you  died,  all 
your  wishes  and  intentions  would  be  scrupulously  carried 
out.  If  you  simply  surrender  unconditionally  while 
living,  everything  would  be  at  six  and  seven.  By  the  way, 
that 's  another  of  those  infernal  misquotations,  Jasper, 
that  I  was  talking  of.  People  will  say  at  sixes  and 
sevens,  you  know." 

u  Tom,"  said  Jasper,  "  do  you  think  anything  mat- 
ters, after  all,  in  this  infernal  world — even  a  misquo- 
tation ?  " 

By  the  next  morning  he  was  calm.  Cudby  eyed  him 
anxiously  at  breakfast.  What  had  he  decided  ? 

"  That  man  shall  stay  under  my  roof,"  said  Jasper. 
u  He  shall  see  me  face  to  face  every  day.  If  he  claims 
his  rights,  I  shall  yield.  I  shall  throw  myself  upon  his 
mercy." 

"  And  if  he  does  n't  claim  ?  " 

"  He  shall  stay  here  until  God  makes  these  dark  things 
clear  to  me." 

"  But  why  the  devil  should  he  live  here  ?"  asked 
Cudby. 

u  I  am  at  least  answerable  to  God  for  his  safety  and 
comfort." 

123 


The  Usurper 

Cudby  protested  against  morbidness.  It  was  the  mor- 
bidness of  people  who  go  to  bed  on  top  of  their  coffins. 
Where  was  the  advantage  of  having  this  skeleton  at  the 
feast  ? 

"  And  look  here,  Jasper,"  cried  the  little  man.  "  I  am 
not  a  self-assertive  chap,  as  you  know  ;  but  I  'm  damned  if 
I  'm  going  to  sit  day  in  and  day  out  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  dinner-table  to  that  fellow's  ugly  face  !  " 

Jasper  smiled  wearily.  "  Mine  is  the  only  ugly  face 
you'll  have  to  put  up  with,  Tom.  Our  friend  shall  have 
quarters  next  door." 

u  He  'd  be  just  as  safe  and  comfortable  a  mile  away," 
said  Cudby. 

"Let  us  drop  the  subject,  please,"  replied  Jasper, 
quietly. 

At  noon  Burke  presented  himself,  attired  in  a  neat 
dark  suit  and  respectable  linen.  He  had  purchased  a 
silver  watch  and  chain  and  modest  shirt  studs ;  he  also 
carried  gloves  and  umbrella.  He  had  shaved  off  his  strag- 
gling black  beard.  A  great  drooping  cavalry  moustache 
contrasted  oddly  with  the  weakness  of  his  watery  eyes, 
his  slightly  receding  chin,  and  his  broken  nose.  Again 
Jasper  scrutinised  him  narrowly.  Burke's  features  re- 
mained expressionless.  Not  a  gleam  or  quiver  betrayed 
recognition.  Only  once  did  he  start  with  surprise,  —  when 
Jasper  mentioned  the  handsome  salary  he  proposed  to 
pay  him  for  clerical  services.  He  regarded  Jasper  open- 
mouthed. 

"  I  am  to  have  free  quarters  and  table  and  five  hun- 
dred a  year  ? " 

124 


The  Usurper 

"  If  you  care  to  accept  it." 

"  Do  you  treat  all  the  dead-beats  that  come  to  you 
like  this,  sir?" 

"  No,"  replied  Jasper.  u  I  have  my  special  reasons 
for  making  you  the  offer." 

"  May  I  ask  what  they  are  ?  "  said  Burke,  with  a 
quick  look  of  suspicion. 

"  They  are  private.  If  you  like,  you  can  take  it  that  I 
am  making  an  experiment.  Remember  that  I  know 
more  about  you  than  you  told  Mr.  Kelly." 

"The  illness  in  the  bush  ?  "  ventured  Burke. 

"  Precisely,  and  other  things." 

"Suppose  the  experiment  does  n't  come  off,  sir  ? " 

"  It  must  have  results,"  replied  Jasper. 

"I  suppose  I  am  perfectly  free  to  go  about  and  do  as 
I  like,  barring  the  office  work  ? " 

"  Perfectly  free,"  said  Jasper. 

"I  accept  gratefully,"  said  Burke,  in  an  even  voice. 
"When  can  I  —  " 

"  You  can  take  up  your  quarters  when  it  pleases  you 
—  to-day,  if  you  like.  And  to-morrow  you  can  begin 
work.  Mr.  Cudby  will  arrange  with  you.  Is  there 
anything  more  you  would  like  to  say  to  me  —  about 
your  loss  of  memory,  for  instance  ?  " 

"  I  've  not  lost  my  — "  he  began  sharply.  Then 
checking  himself  with  a  half  laugh,  "  Oh,  yes,  I  was  for- 
getting. We  arranged  it.  We  '11  keep  it  at  that.  No, 
I  've  nothing  more  to  say,  sir,  except  to  thank  you." 

"  Then  good-morning,"  said  Jasper,  and  the  interview 
ended. 

I25 


The  Usurper 

Jasper  threw  himself  into  a  chair  and  put  a  hand  to  a 
moist  brow.  He  felt  faint  from  the  strain  of  the  part 
he  had  been  playing.  It  had  been  an  effort  to  prevent  a 
perturbed  fancy  from  reading  u  liar  "  on  the  man's  lips. 
His  conscience  flamed.  He  bowed  his  clasped  head  and 
lost  himself  for  some  seconds  in  agonising  appeal  for 
guidance.  No  help  came.  Suddenly  he  started  to  his 
feet,  straightened  himself  up,  collected  his  faculties, 
coldly  considered  the  recent  interview.  Burke's  attitude 
caused  gnawing  doubts.  It  was  not  that  of  a  man  raised 
as  in  a  fairy  tale  from  abject  poverty  to  affluence.  No 
gush  of  gratitude  towards  a  benefactor  had  leaped  forth. 
He  had  accepted  with  dull  indifference  the  bounty  lav- 
ished upon  him  ;  with  suspicion  ;  at  the  most,  with  polite 
expression  of  thanks  that  did  not  lack  a  touch  of  the  sar- 
donic. Did  he  know  or  did  he  not  ?  Had  he  lost  his 
memory  or  had  he  not  ?  The  occasion  to  declare  him- 
self had  been  pointedly  offered  and  had  been  almost  as 
pointedly  disregarded.  The  man  was  a  torturing 
enigma. 

Cudby,  who  had  not  been  present  at  this  second  meet- 
ing, entered  the  room  for  instructions.  In  a  few  words 
Jasper  acquainted  him  with  the  perplexity.  The  little 
man's  shrewd  common  sense  swept  it  aside. 

" '  Command  these  fretting  waters  from  your  eyes 
With  a  light  heart,'  as  the  immortal  one  says.  The  man 
has  lost  his  memory.  We  can  take  that  for  granted. 
He  comes  to  you  as  a  stranger.  He  is  simply  a  broken- 
down  dead-beat.  If  you  had  put  him  on  to  a  job  at 
thirty  shillings  a  week,  he  would  have  grovelled  before 

126 


The  Usurper 

you.  Instead  of  that  you  receive  him  like  your  long- 
lost  brother  and  give  him  an  apocalyptic  salary.  For  no 
earthly  reason.  The  man  naturally  thinks  you  're  getting 
at  him.  You  tell  him  you  know  his  past  life.  By  his 
own  confession  it  has  not  been  immaculate.  He  gets 
suspicious.  Wants  to  know  what  game  you  're  playing 
at.  Where  does  Jasper  Vellacot,  Esquire,  millionaire, 
come  in  ?  he  asks.  J.  V.  is  bound  to  come  in  some- 
where. If  you  were  to  get  to  the  bottom  of  that  crea- 
ture's muddy  mind,  you  would  probably  see  that  he 
believes  you  to  have  selected  him  for  some  dirty  trans- 
action for  which  you  pay  him  handsomely.  Being  a 
turbid  philosopher,  he  gives  you  a  cynical  acquiescence. 
He  's  by  way  of  being  an  educated  man,  remember." 

"  You  are  generally  right,  Tom,"  said  Jasper.  "  I  can 
but  walk  straight  in  the  path  that  I  've  chosen." 

"That  your  stars  have  preordained,  mon  prince"  said 
Cudby. 

So  Burke  took  up  his  residence  in  Gower  Street.  He 
had  a  couple  of  comfortably  furnished  rooms,  a  servant 
to  wait  upon  him,  and  abundance  of  food  and  drink. 
A  seat  among  the  clerks  in  an  office  below,  and  moder- 
ate work  of  an  irresponsible  nature  were  assigned  to 
him.  He  performed  his  duties  in  a  dull,  taciturn  way, 
seldom  speaking  to  his  fellow-clerks,  who  regarded  the 
highly  favoured  new  arrival  as  one  of  the  chief's  old 
colonial  chums  who  had  fallen  upon  evil  fortunes ;  an 
impression  which  Burke  said  nothing  to  remove.  When 
Jasper  addressed  him,  he  was  sullenly  respectful.  Yet 
now  and  then  Jasper  caught  a  fleeting  perplexity  in  his 

127 


The  Usurper 

eyes  that  confirmed  Cudby's  solution.  One  day  Jasper 
drew  him  into  conversation  on  Australian  topics,  wan- 
dered purposely  with  him  into  the  Torowoto  district, 
where  they  had  met  in  past  years.  Suddenly,  with  the 
impassive  face  that  was  beginning  to  be  habitual  to  him, 
and  with  steady  eyes  beneath  the  overhanging  brows,  he 
put  the  question,  — 

"What  happened  to  you  immediately  before  and  im- 
mediately after  that  illness  ?  " 

Unconsciously  his  tone  was  that  of  the  accuser.  The 
man  blanched,  almost  trembled. 

"  Some  I  forget.  I  do  forget.  It 's  a  blank.  The 
rest  I  won't  remember.  Why  the  blazes  are  you 
always  harping  on  that  illness  ? "  he  exclaimed  in  a 
sudden  heat. 

"  'Sh  !  That  is  not  the  way  to  speak  to  me,"  said 
Jasper,  quietly. 

Burke  sank  into  cowed  humility.  u  I  beg  your  par- 
don, sir,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice.  "  I  lost  my  head." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  have  touched  on  painful  associations 
in  your  life,"  said  Jasper,  with  cold  courtesy.  "  Be 
assured  I  shall  not  do  so  again." 

This  outburst  was  the  only  spontaneous,  genuine 
expression  that  he  had  as  yet  obtained  from  the  man. 
He  mentioned  the  incident  to  Cudby,  who  triumphantly 
glorified  his  own  sagacity.  Instead  of  Jasper  being  the 
salmon  cunningly  played  by  Burke,  it  was  the  salmon 
Burke  who  felt  in  his  gills  the  hook  that  the  unwitting 
Jasper  commanded  with  his  rod.  The  mention  of  the 
illness  was  a  sudden  strike  causing  the  tortured  fish  to 

128 


The  Usurper 

leap  madly.     Jasper  ended  the  discussion  by  his  usual 
phrase,  — 

u  Perhaps  you  are  right,  Tom." 

A  strong  man  may  defy  his  conscience  and  commit 
himself  irrevocably  to  a  course  of  conduct,  knowing 
within  himself  the  strength  to  pursue  it  with  unfaltering 
tread  whithersoever  it  may  lead;  but  if,  with  all  the 
strength,  the  man  is  nervous,  sensitive,  imaginative,  ten- 
der of  heart,  passionately  craving  the  highest,  that  same 
conscience  is  a  sword  of  fire  through  his  vitals.  It  is 
easy  to  talk  of  ruthless  destiny.  No  man  in  his  heart 
believes  in  it.  A  man's  destiny  is  a  man's  will.  And 
a  man's  will  is  under  his  control.  At  least,  so  does  it 
appear  to  him  when  he  is  face  to  face  with  that  terrify- 
ing, accusing,  spiritual  thing  that  is  himself.  This  self, 
this  strange,  subjective  realisation  of  self,  for  which  con- 
science is  a  vague  term,  stands  forth  in  hot  denial  of 
destiny,  bringing  no  comfort.  At  such  times  is  the 
awfullest  isolation  of  the  human  soul,  which  no  love 
of  man  or  woman  can  one  whit  modify. 

Through  such  a  period  of  isolation  did  Jasper  Vellacot 
pass.  Reason  proved  inexorable  fate  pointing  to  his 
path — the  continued  rulership  of  his  kingdom.  Unpity- 
ing  conscience  held  before  his  eyes  the  wrong  done  to 
the  man  beneath  his  roof.  Day  and  night  the  accusing 
spirit  haunted  him.  He  could  not  sleep.  His  medical 
man  prescribed  opiates.  He  took  the  drugs,  slept,  car- 
ried on,  somehow,  physical  existence.  The  routine  of 
life  continued.  Society  he  shunned.  Night  after  night 
he  sat  gloomily  in  the  House,  his  chin  on  his  breast. 
9  129 


The  Usurper 

The  weeks  went  by.  He  neither  entered  his  little 
haven  of  rest  in  Onslow  Gardens,  nor  climbed  the 
stairs  of  Great  Coram  Street.  To  Lady  Alicia's  kindly 
notes  he  replied  distantly,  declining  invitations  on  the 
plea  of  the  urgency  of  parliamentary  and  other 
affairs. 

He  remembered  bitterly  the  wakeful  night  of  exalta- 
tion after  his  factory  speech,  the  folly  of  his  glittering 
and  short-lived  hope.  With  avenging  speed  the  high 
gods  had  sent  the  man  Burke  to  shake  him  from  his 
dream.  She  was  as  remote  from  him  as  the  pure  moon 
in  heaven.  He  would  not  avow  to  himself  how  much 
he  ached  for  her. 

At  last  he  met  her  at  a  great  garden  party  at  Buck- 
ingham Palace.  The  invitation,  which  probably  was 
suggested  by  the  royalties  who  had  opened  his  North 
Ham  Hospital  the  year  before,  he  had  felt  bound  to 
accept.  He  wandered  gloomily  through  the  grounds, 
indifferent  to  the  brilliance  of  the  crowded  scene,  ex- 
changing greetings  with  those  he  knew,  till  suddenly 
with  a  heart-beat  he  saw  her  smiling  at  him.  The 
man  talking  to  her  rose,  as  Jasper  approached,  bowed, 
and  went  away.  She  pointed  with  a  pretty  air  of  com- 
mand to  the  vacant  chair  by  her  side,  turned  towards 
him,  rated  him  for  neglect.  He  murmured  apologies, 
wondering  stupidly  how  it  was  that  her  garments  always 
seemed  to  be  part  and  parcel  of  herself,  like  the  petals 
of  a  flower.  They  were  a  feathery,  dreamy  palest-prim- 
rose chiffon  tabernacle  not  made  by  hands,  enshrining 
her  delicate  body  and  her  delicate  face.  Influence  ema- 


The  Usurper 

nated  from  her  like  a  perfume.  He  felt  the  peace 
of  a  man  coming  to  a  palm-shaded  well  in  a  thirsty 
desert. 

"  I  used  to  believe  in  work  being  an  antidote  to 
fatigue,"  said  he.  "  I  'm  beginning  to  doubt  it." 

"  What  is  the  new  remedy  that  has  made  you  aban- 
don your  paradox  ?"  she  asked. 

"  Your  company,"  said  he. 

"  I  am  flattered,  Mr.  Vellacot.  But  if  that  is  so, 
why  —  "  The  tiniest  gesture  completed  the  question. 

u  I  have  no  right  to  use  your  drawing-room  as  a 
dumping-ground  for  my  wearinesses.  They  would 
mount  up  and  get  in  the  way." 

"  Could  n't  you  leave  them  on  the  front  doorstep  ? " 
she  laughed. 

Her  laugh  was  music  that  for  the  moment  gladdened 
the  world.  He  drew  a  long  breath  and  looked  around 
him  with  brighter  vision.  He  laughed  with  her. 

u  I  leave  them  on  so  many  people's  doorsteps,"  he 
replied,  "  and  when  I  come  out  again,  the  weight  seems 
heavier  than  ever.  It  would  be  paying  you  a  poor  com- 
pliment to  treat  you  so.  I  must  come  to  you  with  the 
whole  pack  or  not  at  all.  The  only  question  is  :  '  Have 
you  room  for  it  ? ' ' 

"  I  think  I  have,"  she  answered,  shutting  her  parasol. 
"My  own  life  is  so  easy  that  I  can  spare  all  the  space 
that  is  generally  taken  up  with  one's  own  grievances. 
In  fact,  my  life  is  a  little  too  easy.  I  think  every  one 
ought  to  earn  his  right  to  live,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  If  I  were  a  courtier,"  he  remarked  with  a  humorous 


The  Usurper 

twitch  of  his  lips,  "  I  would  say  that  some  people  con- 
fer an  honour  on  the  world  by  living  at  all." 

"  That 's  very  pretty,"  she  said  happily. 

"  I  'm  not  so  sure  it  is  n't  true,"  said  Jasper. 

"  Oh,  I  'm  quite  sure,"  she  replied.  "  When  I  look 
at  people  like  you  working  night  and  day  and  making 
every  moment  of  their  existence  useful  to  their  fellow 
creatures,  I  feel  as  if  I  were  shirking  all  my  duties  to 
society.  I  wish  I  had  more  work  to  do." 

"  It  is  your  part  to  help  others  to  work." 

"Tell  me  how  to  do  it." 

Burke  was  forgotten  in  a  magical  inspiration.  He 
turned  upon  her  eagerly. 

"  Would  you  help  me  ?  " 

«  Could  I  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course.  There  are  many  tough  problems 
I  have  to  deal  with  which  a  woman's  judgment  could 
solve,  while  I  stumble  about  helplessly.  Will  you  be 
a  kind  of  consulting  partner  in  my  little  schemes  ? " 

"Why,  nothing  would  give  me  greater  pleasure," 
she  said  enthusiastically.  "  But  are  n't  there  others  who 
could  help  you  more  ? " 

"  No  help  could  be  like  yours  —  and  I  want  help." 

u  Yet  you  are  a  strong  man." 

"  I  am  what  God  made  me,"  replied  Jasper,  with  a 
smile,  u  and  he  made  me  in  need  of  Lady  Alicia  Harden 
to  counsel  me." 

This  was  arrant  love-making.  He  knew  it  and  he 
did  not  care.  The  Royal  Artillery  Band  were  playing 
the  Intermezzo  in  the  "  Cavalleria  Rusticana,"  which 

132 


The  Usurper 

perhaps  is  a  tune  that  ought  to  be  prohibited  in  polite 
assemblies.  To  look  in  the  eyes  of  the  woman  one 
loves,  while  that  strain  of  primitive  undisguised  passion 
sets  the  heart  a-beating  furiously,  is  of  itself  perilous. 
Then  there  were  the  sunshine  and  the  great  patches  of 
shadow,  the  waving  green  of  the  trees,  the  freshness 
of  gay  summer  dresses,  the  musical  laughter  of  girls, 
the  fragrance  of  the  sweet  woman  by  his  side.  And 
then  there  was  the  amazement  of  rinding  joy  possible  on 
the  gloom-stricken  earth.  Jasper  was  human. 

So  was  Lady  Alicia — as  the  untouched  woman  is 
human.  Secure  in  her  own  imperviousness  to  passion, 
she  was  unaware  of  all  that  underlay  the  man's  words. 
But  she  flushed,  pleased  at  the  tribute  they  conveyed, 
her  sex  satisfied  with  the  sense  of  power  over  the 
vigorous-brained  masculine.  Homage  from  men  had 
been  her  privilege  for  so  many  years  that  she  had 
scarcely  a  twinge  of  misgiving  as  to  her  capacity  for 
collaborating  with  a  philanthropist  in  vast  schemes. 
She  sat  embowered  in  her  serenity,  which  no  disturbing 
wind  had  come  as  yet  to  ruffle.  It  was  a  psychological 
condition,  be  it  noted,  as  remote  from  conceit  as  the 
mist  of  the  moon  is  from  the  steam  of  a  tea-kettle  ; 
yet  so  strange  a  thing  is  humanity  that  sometimes  in 
after  years  the  memory  of  a  flush  like  this  will  enwrap 
a  woman  in  flames  from  head  to  heel. 

Suddenly  Lady  Alicia  spied  enemies,  in  the  shape  of 
dear  friends,  bearing  down  upon  her  from  afar.  She 
notified  the  impossibility  of  escape.  Jasper,  set  down  in 
front  of  the  commonplace,  realised  his  recklessness,  and 


The  Usurper 

hurriedly  brought  into  review  order  the  scattered  com- 
panies of  his  emotions.  He  sought  information  as  to 
the  name  and  quality  of  the  approaching  friends. 
Alicia  said  that  they  were  the  Dusante-Peakes  of  Shrop- 
shire with  the  everlasting  Bobby,  which  did  not  add 
much  to  his  store  of  general  knowledge.  In  the  haste 
of  farewell  she  questioned  him  about  Bunny. 

"  What  is  he  doing  ?  Have  you  seen  him  lately  ? 
He  too  has  neglected  me." 

Jasper  had  not  heard  of  him  for  five  weeks.  The  last 
time  he  had  seen  him  —  He  remembered  the  glimpse 
into  the  interior  of  the  Hotel  Bomboni. 

u  I  forget  when  it  was,"  he  corrected  himself  quickly. 
"  And  those  love  poems  in  c  The  Weekly  Review  '  ?  " 
"  I  have  n't  come  across  them,"  said  Jasper,  this  time 
truthfully. 

"  I  don't  like  them  a  bit,"  said  Lady  Alicia. 
u  I  '11  go  and  see  him  to-night  and  ask  him  what  he 
means  by  it,"  he  returned,  laughing. 

ct  Perhaps  you  need  not  mention  my  disapproval,"  she 
said.  And  her  eyes,  meeting  his,  were  as  guileless  as 
those  of  a  child  of  three. 

Jasper  remained  awhile  longer,  regarding  with  less 
jaundiced  gaze  the  brilliant  scene.  One  of  the  Royalties 
above  mentioned  was  graciously  pleased  to  summon  him  by 
an  equerry  and  stand  with  him  in  affable  conversation 
for  five  minutes  and  thus  render  him  the  object  of  much 
envy  and  comment.  He  walked  home,  fretting  some- 
what at  the  white  waistcoat  and  tight  patent-leather 
boots  which  Cudby  had  insisted  on  his  wearing,  but 

134 


The  Usurper 

feeling  a  much  more  uplifted  person  than  the  sombre 
man  who  had  entered  Buckingham  Palace  gates  an 
hour  or  so  before.  Life  was  not  so  bitter  but  a  smile 
could  make  it  sweet,  and  she  had  smiled  upon  him  with 
unchanging  graciousness.  If  she  could  be  no  nearer 
than  a  friend,  still  as  a  friend  she  was  secure.  Why 
obstinately  reject  the  modicum  of  happiness  apportioned 
by  the  high  gods  ?  He  pulled  off  his  grey  suede  gloves, 
which  he  hated,  and  thrust  them  into  his  pocket,  and 
tilted  the  brand-new  silk  hat  to  the  back  of  his  head, 
and  strode  up  Piccadilly.  He  could  think  better  so. 
Again  he  resolved  to  look  ghosts  and  bogies  and  aveng- 
ing furies  and  angels  with  flaming  swords  impenetrably 
in  the  face. 

u  By  God  !  "  said  he,  half  aloud  and  swinging  his 
stick  emphatically,  "  I  can  be  a  man,  if  nothing  else." 

He  narrowly  missed  being  a  corpse  or  a  cripple,  for 
he  happened  to  be  crossing  the  end  of  Albemarle  Street 
and  a  cab  nearly  ran  over  him.  His  undignified  scuttle 
to  safety,  incongruously  cutting  short  lofty  reflections, 
provoked  his  laughter.  Cudby  stared  at  him  through 
his  gold-rimmed  eyeglass  when  he  entered  the  house. 
If  there  were  two  things  that  Cudby  knew  by  heart,  they 
were  Shakespeare's  plays  and  the  Book  of  Jasper. 

11  God  save  the  Queen  !  "  he  cried  with  enigmatic 
enthusiasm. 


CHAPTER   X 

FOR  that  evening  Jasper  had  made  an  engagement 
to  dine  with  the  Tanners  Company.  The  Court, 
being  associated  with  him  in  one  of  his  charitable  enter- 
prises, had  sought  to  do  him  honour,  and  had  invited 
him  as  the  chief  outside  guest  on  the  annual  occasion  of 
their  entertaining  the  Lord  Mayor  and  Sheriffs.  He 
had  accepted  the  invitation  under  the  compulsion  of 
public  affairs.  At  all  times  he  disliked  these  elaborate 
banquets.  The  profusion  of  food  and  drink  shocked  his 
ascetic  habit  of  mind.  The  gastronomic  talk  and  the 
gross  feeding  around  him  awakened  a  physical  aversion. 
He  was  uninfluenced  by  the  mellow  atmosphere  of  good- 
fellowship.  In  this  respect  he  lacked  the  civic  instinct, 
and  could  not  appreciate  the  principle  that  a  full  stomach 
maketh  a  full  heart.  To  him  it  was  no  pleasure  to  lie 
back  replete  in  his  chair,  and  let  his  digestion  be  soothed 
by  glee  singers  and  soloists,  and  the  distant  droning  of  a 
gentleman  making  a  speech.  Still  less  did  he  enjoy 
making  a  speech  himself  to  this  flushed  and  complacent 
audience.  But  as  such  festivities  occasionally  came 
within  the  sphere  of  his  duties  as  a  public  man,  he  at- 
tended them  with  as  good  a  grace  as  possible.  The 
prospect,  however,  of  the  present  dinner  had  added  a 
depression  to  the  burden  of  the  last  five  weeks.  He 
had  shrunk  almost  morbidly  from  prominence,  seeing 

136 


The  Usurper 

himself  as  a  swindling  impostor,  in  spite  of  his  sense  of 
the  responsibilities  of  the  usurping  monarch.  And  he 
was  to  respond  to-night  for  the  House  of  Commons. 
His  morning  had  been  troubled.  Before  him  had  been 
a  Royal  Garden  Party  and  a  City  Dinner,  with  a  speech 
at  the  end  of  it.  He  would  have  preferred  a  day  on 
skilly  in  the  casual  ward  of  a  workhouse. 

And  yet  at  six  o'clock  he  found  himself  on  the  top 
of  an  omnibus  in  Holborn,  humming  the  Intermezzo 
in  the  "  Cavalleria  Rusticana."  At  a  quarter  to  seven 
he  ruined  his  neighbour  the  Sheriff's  enjoyment  of  clear 
turtle  by  manifesting  a  keen  interest  in  his  conversation, 
and  at  half-past  nine  he  surprised  himself  by  the  ease 
with  which  he  forgot  every  word  of  the  speech  labori- 
ously prepared  beforehand,  and  by  the  flood  of  spon- 
taneous eloquence  that  came  from  his  lips.  He  had 
drunk  that  afternoon  of  the  woman  as  of  wine,  and  his 
heart  had  been  gladdened  and  his  strength  had  returned 
to  him.  He  sat  down  amid  great  applause.  He  felt 
that  his  words  had  pierced  through  the  fumes  of  wine 
and  food,  and  had  shaken  his  hearers  for  a  moment  from 
the  easeful  torpor  of  their  congestion.  A  throb  of  pride 
pulsated  swiftly  through  him.  He  was  a  man,  at  any 
rate.  For  the  moment  the  lofty  hall  rich  in  its  armorial 
bearings,  the  long  tables  glittering  with  gold  and  silver 
plate,  the  civic  dignitaries  resplendent  in  robes  and 
chains,  the  gorgeous  flunkeys  behind  their  chairs,  the 
vistas  of  smiling,  well-fed  faces  turned  towards  him,  the 
dignity  and  power  and  honourable  traditions  of  this  an- 
cient Livery  Company,  all  seemed  an  appanage  of  the 

137 


The  Usurper 

kingdom  over  which  he  ruled.  And  he  ruled  it  not 
only  by  reason  of  his  wealth,  but  by  reason  of  himself, 
his  will,  his  personality,  his  gift  of  rulership.  His  pride 
was  overweening  through  reaction  from  abasement. 

"  In  spite  of  your  eloquent  arguments,  Mr.  Vellacot," 
said  the  Sheriff,  who  was  a  member  of  the  Court,  "  I  am 
afraid  we  shall  never  acquire  parliamentary  powers  for 
the  purchase  of  the  land." 

In  the  after-glow  of  excitement  Jasper  brought  his 
hand  down  upon  the  table. 

"  I  have  just  promised  publicly  to  obtain  them,  Mr. 
Sheriff,"  said  he,  "  and  I  have  never  broken  a  promise 
in  my  life."  He  felt  capable  of  manipulating  the  Brit- 
ish Empire.  To  defy  a  mere  committee  of  the  House 
of  Commons  was  a  small  matter. 

"  They  only  want  one  insistent  loud-voiced  man  who 
is  in  earnest  and  says  it  must  be  done,"  he  added. 
u  There  are  all  kinds  of  unknown  mysterious  forces  be- 
hind the  man  who  says  'must.'  He  speaks  with  the 
authority  of  his  enthusiasm  and  special  knowledge,  and 
must  prevail  over  a  lukewarm  body  who  in  their  hearts 
don't  care  a  button  one  way  or  the  other.  He  also 
saves  them  the  trouble  of  thinking.  They  follow  the 
line  of  least  resistance.  The  majority  would  sooner  be 
led  than  lead.  The  leadership  is  always  for  him  who 
cares  to  seize  it.  Perhaps  this  sounds  somewhat  high- 
handed —  filibustering,"  he  said  with  a  laugh  ;  "  but  it 's 
the  only  way  for  reforms  to  be  carried  out.  It  's  the 
principle  of  the  coup  d'etat  applied  to  small  things.  It  is 
always  successful.  Cromwell  breaking  into  the  House 

138 


The  Usurper 

with  his  '  Take  away  that  bauble ;  '  Danton  with  his 
*  Audacity,  again  audacity  and  always  audacity,'  —  men 
like  that  realised  the  truth  I  'm  speaking  of.  There  is 
an  old  proverb,  c  A  wilful  man  must  have  his  own 
way/  Put  the  pitch  of  it  a  little  higher  and  we  get  '  A 
man  of  will  shall  have  his  own  way.'  A  psychological 
law." 

The  Sheriff  sipped  his  old  port,  and  his  enjoyment  of 
the  lingering  fragrance  on  his  palate  was  marred  by 
thoughts  of  a  domestic  hearth  where  this  psychological 
law  was  exemplified  to  his  own  discomfort.  He  could 
not  but  agree  with  Jasper,  who  had  unconsciously  been 
fortifying  his  own  moral  position  with  the  argument. 

"  Well,  we  will  trust  in  you  blindly,"  said  he.  "  You 
are  the  only  politician  I  know  who  takes  his  own  course 
without  caring  a  damn  for  anybody.  I  wish  I  could 
do  the  same." 

"  Why  can't  you  ?  "  asked  Jasper. 

But  the  Sheriff  only  answered  with  a  sigh. 

The  speeches  over,  the  assembly  adjourned  to  the 
parlour  for  tea  and  coffee.  There  were  some  insatiables 
who  actually  ate  the  hot  muffins,  a  survival  from  barbaric 
times.  Talk,  and  cigar  smoke,  and  the  fragrance  of  coffee 
filled  the  air.  Jasper  was  drawn  into  a  little  group,  re- 
mote from  the  rest  of  the  company,  as  befitted  person- 
ages of  eminent  position.  In  it  were  the  Lord  Mayor, 
the  Master  of  the  Company,  and  Lord  John  Revelby, 
an  Under  Secretary  of  State.  There  he  was  made  much 
of,  flattered,  listened  to  with  deference.  His  speech 
scornfully  disposing  of  the  vested  interests  which  stood  in 

139 


The  Usurper 

the  way  of  the  desired  powers  of  purchase  had  impressed 
them  with  a  sense  of  his  power.  For  the  first  time  he 
found  himself  openly  recognised  as  a  political  force.  He 
felt  the  great  weight  of  the  city  behind  him. 

u  You  should  strengthen  your  position  by  joining  our 
Company,"  said  the  sheriff. 

u  Mr.  Vellacot's  position  requires  no  strengthening," 
said  the  Master.  "  But  when  he  succeeds,  it  will  be  the 
least  we  can  do  to  show  our  gratitude  if  we  ask  him  to 
do  us  the  honour  of  accepting  the  Freedom." 

Solitude  and  the  cool  night  air,  as  Jasper  walked  west- 
ward, restored  his  somewhat  disturbed  equipoise.  He  broke 
into  a  laugh,  half  ashamed  of  his  vapourings  and  his  little 
arrogant  thrills  of  triumph.  He  reviewed  the  day,  the 
evening,  and  sanely  accounted  for  things.  He  had  been 
taken  unawares.  The  reaction  had  jerked,  as  it  were, 
his  self-control  from  his  hands.  This  was  dangerous, 
he  reflected  seriously.  For  the  future  he  must  be  on  his 
guard.  Highly  strung  nerves  when  suddenly  relaxed  are 
apt  to  jangle  with  irresponsible  and  incoherent  clangour. 
The  dissonance  in  its  acutest  form  is  hysteria.  The 
idea  of  his  evergrowing  hysterical  was  comic;  and  again 
he  laughed. 

His  watch  marked  half-past  ten.  A  vagrant  hu- 
mour disinclined  him  from  home.  Also  a  twinge  half 
of  conscience,  half  of  angry  defiance,  rendered  mo- 
mentarily distasteful  the  roof  beneath  which  Burke 
was  sleeping.  He  hardened  his  heart  against  the 
man. 

"  I  must  lead  my  life  as  God  wills,  and  I  'm  damned 
140 


The  Usurper 

if  Burke  shall  spoil  it,"  said  he,  with  his  quaint  duality  of 
temperament. 

Instinct  prompted  him  towards  Lady  Alicia.  At  such 
a  moment  she  could  divinely  settle  his  mood.  Common- 
sense  pointed  to  the  hour  as  too  late  for  a  casual  call.  If 
she  were  not  out,  she  would  probably  be  in  bed  when  he 
arrived.  He  bethought  himself  of  Bunny,  of  his  promise 
that  afternoon  to  Lady  Alicia.  His  mind  leaped  at  the 
suggestion.  The  boy's  unspoiled  egotism  would  just  set 
him  off  the  too  personal  track,  replace  him  on  the  rails  of 
his  mild,  half-wistful  altruism.  He  did  not  thus  analyse 
the  feelings  with  which  he  quickened  his  steps,  but  he 
felt  vaguely  their  significance.  A  Bayswater  omnibus 
overtaking  him  carried  him  down  Holborn  as  far  as 
Southampton  Row.  Then  he  walked  up  to  Great 
Coram  Street  and  knocked  at  Bunny's  door. 

The  young  poet  threw  down  his  pen  and  jumped  to 
his  feet,  upsetting  the  chair  behind  him,  when  the  weary 
servant-girl  announced  Jasper. 

"  How  jolly  of  you  to  come !  How  awfully  jolly  of 
you ! " 

There  was  the  usual  bustle  to  dispose  of  Jasper's  hat 
and  coat,  and  to  clear  a  seat,  and  to  unearth  a  box  of 
cigarettes  from  a  concealing  mass  of  litter. 

"  I  am  such  an  untidy  beggar,"  he  explained,  "  and 
the  servant  is  untidier,  and  so  between  the  two  of  us  this 
picturesque  effect  is  produced.  If  you  remained  long 
enough  in  that  armchair,  you'd  get  mislaid  too,  and  have 
to  be  hunted  wildly  for  and  dug  up.  But  I  say,  it  is 
good  of  you  to  come  !  I  have  n't  seen  you  for  ages.  It 

141 


The  Usurper 

is  n't  altogether  my  fault.  I  have  been  round  once  or 
twice  in  the  evenings,  but  you  Ve  been  away  legislating. 
Do  have  this  cushion  ;  without  it  the  chair  is  a  refined 
rack  undreamed  of  by  the  Holy  Inquisition." 

He  rattled  on,  hospitable,  boyishly  delighted  at  Jasper's 
visit.  Suddenly  he  stopped  short,  dismayed. 

"  By  Jove,  I  have  no  whisky.  I  'm  so  sorry.  I  '11  run 
round  the  corner  and  get  some." 

The  impetuous  youth  was  already  plunging  after  his 
boots  beneath  the  dilapidated  sofa  when  Jasper  restrained 
him.  He  had  eaten  and  drunk,  he  explained,  to  a  horrible 
extent  that  evening.  He  would  not  even  allow  Bunny 
to  obtain  bottled  beer  from  the  landlady.  Tobacco  and 
Bunny's  conversation,  two  plentiful  commodities,  were  all 
he  desired  for  his  entertainment.  Bunny  yielded  with  a 
laugh,  and  threw  himself  down  amid  the  books  and 
newspapers  on  the  sofa. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  there  's  enough  talk  here  to  drown  an 
army.  You  turn  a  tap  and  it  pours  out.  Some  people 
can't  talk,  you  know.  It  always  seems  odd  to  me,  just 
like  not  being  able  to  whistle.  There  's  such  a  lot  of 
things,  little  and  big,  that  one  wants  to  get  out  of  one." 

"  Especially  when  you  have  turned  anchorite  and  given 
up  human  society  for  five  weeks,"  said  Jasper. 

"  Oh  !  I  have  had  lots  of  human  society,  I  assure 
you,"  replied  Bunny,  with  great  truthfulness.  u  But  who 
has  been  telling  you  I've  turned  anchorite  ?  Somebody. 
Ten  to  one,  it 's  Lady  Alicia.  I  'm  afraid  I  have  n't  been 
near  her  for  a  long  time.  Tell  me,  Vellacot,"  he  cried, 
starting  to  his  feet.  "  She  is  not  hurt,  is  she  ?  She  is 

142 


The  Usurper 

the  sweetest  soul  alive,  and  I  should  hate  her  to  think 
I  was  treating  her  badly.  She  is  one  of  the  women  I 
love." 

"  One  of  them  ?  " 

u  I  could  love  a  hundred,  in  a  way,"  said  Bunny. 
"  Could  n't  you  ?  " 

u  I  am  a  weather-beaten  politician,  not  a  poet,  my 
young  friend." 

"  We  '11  see  you  floundering  up  to  your  eyes  in  love 
one  of  these  days." 

"  I  may  be  senile  enough  to  fall  in  love,"  said  Jasper ; 
"  but  if  you  imagine  you  are  going  to  behold  the  process, 
you  are  very  much  mistaken." 

He  smiled  in  half-grim  amusement.  The  idea  of 
his  going  about  with  bonnet  unbanded  and  shoestring 
untied,  and  everything  about  him  demonstrating  a  careless 
desolation,  was  humorous.  He  to  be  an  Orlando  carving 
verses  on  oak-trees !  And  yet  he  would  have  given  all 
his  money  to  be  the  free  youth  in  the  Forest  of  Arden. 
An  oak-tree  or  the  pages  of  a  sixpenny  magazine  — 
what  did  it  matter  ?  The  principle  was  the  same. 

w  But,  to  go  back,"  said  Bunny.  "  Alicia  is  not  vexed 
with  me  ?  " 

"  Forgiveness  is  ready  for  you,  but  you  must  go  and 
claim  it." 

u  I  '11  go  on  Sunday.  But  I  've  been  so  busy,  you 
know.  First  there  was  the  one-act  play.  I  Ve  only 
just  finished  it.  I  tore  up  most  of  the  first  draft.  I 
did  n't  quite  know  then  what  I  was  talking  about." 

u  And  you  do  now  ?  " 


The  Usurper 

Bunny  coloured  under  the  elder  man's  kind,  shrewd 
glance. 

UI  told  you  I  wanted  it  to  be  all  wine.  I  found  it 
come  out  watery.  I  think  it's  right  now." 

"  You  must  bring  it  to  Onslow  Gardens  on  Sunday, 
and  read  it  to  us,"  said  Jasper. 

Bunny  passed  his  fingers  through  his  curly  black  hair, 
and  looked  whimsically  at  his  friend. 

"  Do  you  know,"  said  he,  u  I  don't  fancy  Alicia 
would  care  for  it." 

Jasper  was  struck  by  the  sudden  memory  of  an 
expression  of  disapproval  that  afternoon.  Bunny's 
instinctive  knowledge  of  Lady  Alicia  startled  him.  He 
remembered  her  allusion  to  certain  poems  in  "  The 
Weekly  Review."  His  mention  of  them  set  Bunny 
disinterring  back  numbers. 

u  Here  are  one  or  two,"  said  he.  "  I  'm  not  con- 
ceited, but  I  like  those  I  care  for  to  see  my  work.  It 's 
about  the  best  stuff  I  've  done.  It  means  such  a  devil 
of  a  lot  to  me,"  he  explained  apologetically. 

Jasper  read  one  of  the  lyrics.  A  subtle  influence, 
dusky  and  warm  and  passionate,  rose  from  the  lines. 
They  pulsated  with  southern  music,  rich  and  odorous. 
They  glowed  with  the  splendour  of  burning  depths. 
The  poem  was  as  sensuous  and  spiritual  as  incense,  and 
the  flood  of  reds  and  purples  streaming  through  Gothic 
windows.  Jasper's  eyes  grew  dim  with  thoughts  too 
deep  for  him  as  they  rose  from  the  page  to  the  young 
face  of  the  inspired  being  who  had  made  this  intoxi- 
cating word-music,  and  who  stood  eagerly  awaiting  his 

144 


The  Usurper 

judgment  as  if  the  masterpiece  were  a    rather  cleverly 
constructed  rabbit-hutch. 

"  Wonderful,  wonderful,"  he  murmured.  "  How 
could  Lady  Alicia  not  like  it  ?  " 

"She  is  the  silver  star  in  the  night,'*  said  Bunny, 
u  and  cannot  sympathise  with  the  crimson  flower  in  the 
sunshine." 

Verily  truth  is  not  always  beauty.  These  men  were 
maintained  on  a  far  higher  spiritual  plane  by  the  poetical 
illusion  than  they  could  have  been  by  the  knowledge  of 
the  prosaic  fact  that  the  star  in  the  night  was  most 
humanly  and  femininely  jealous  of  the  crimson  flower, 
whoever  she  might  be,  that  inspired  Bunny's  love  songs. 
The  limitations  against  which  humanity  is  eternally  in 
revolt  are  blessings  that  render  possible  the  spiritual  life. 
What,  after  all,  is  love  but  the  immortal  confluence  of  two 
illusions  ?  What  is  a  man's  better  self  but  a  kind  of 
astral  shape  made  up  of  vague  aspirations  and  vanities 
and  impossible  idealisations,  —  a  shadowy  photograph  of 
the  soul  printed  from  an  unconsciously  touched  up 
negative  ? 

41  There  is  a  red  flower  then,  Bunny  ? "  asked  Jasper, 
kindly.  And  as  he  put  the  question,  there  flashed 
upon  him  the  picture  he  had  seen  through  the  open  door 
of  the  Hotel  Bomboni.  Dismay  sobered  him.  He  rose 
and  put  his  hand  on  the  young  fellow's  shoulder. 

44  Are  you  sure  it 's  a  flower  and  not  just  a  common 
weed  ?  " 

44  She 's  the  throbbing  beauty  of  the  earth,"  said 
Bunny. 

10  145 


The  Usurper 

«  With  Italian  eyes  ?  Am  I  right  ?  " 
"Yes.  I  don't  care  who  knows  it." 
"  And  she  is  the  beginning  and  end  of  all  this  ?  " 
"She  is  the  beginning  and  end  of  existence." 
He  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height  and  looked 
defiance  at  a  doubting  world.  Jasper  filled  his  pipe  from 
a  tin  of  tobacco  on  the  writing-table  and  lit  it  gravely. 
The  affair  between  Bunny  and  the  young  woman  of 
Soho  appeared  in  a  different  light  beneath  this  rapturous 
glow.  He  saw  in  it  more  than  the  mere  pagan  attrac- 
tion of  two  beautiful  young  creatures  astonished  at  the 
newness  and  joy  of  life.  It  held  the  peril  of  wild 
passion.  The  commonplaces  of  worldly  wisdom  that 
occurred  to  him  seemed  strangely  futile.  He  had  seen 
enough  of  Vittoria  to  know  that  she  was  not  the  tawdry 
Hebe  that  often  captivates  the  senses  of  unwary  youth, 
her  betters.  She  had  remarkable  beauty,  wit,  personality, 
and  yet  he  feared  for  Bunny.  The  last  man  in  the 
world  to  be  influenced  by  caste  conventions,  he  could  not 
disassociate  her  in  his  mind  from  the  smell  of  the  dingy 
eating-house.  There  were  sweet  girls  in  Bunny's  own 
world  who  would  have  been  fitter  mates  for  him.  He 
sat  down  again  in  the  armchair  and  smoked  in  silence. 

"  Well,"  said  Bunny,  "  what  have  you  to  say  against 
it  ?  " 

"  What  can  I  say  ?  "  asked  Jasper. 

"A   wilderness    of  wise    things.     I    know    you   are 

meditating  a  sermon.     I  see  it  in  your  face.     It  Js  no 

good.     I  've  got  to  go  my  own  way.     Man  alive,  how 

can  I  help  loving  her  ?     She  is  fashioned  inside  and  out 

146 


The  Usurper 

by  God  Almighty  expressly  for  me.  To  love  her  is 
as  inevitable  as  to  be  warmed  by  the  sun.  Look  here, 
Vellacot,  I  've  done  nothing  but  talk  about  myself. 
You  always  make  me  do  it.  It's  because  you  are  so 
confoundedly  sympathetic,  just  like  Alicia.  One  pours 
oneself  out  to  you." 

u  But  you  have  n't  confessed  Vittoria  to  Lady  Alicia, 
I  presume,"  said  Jasper. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  said  the  youthful  sage,  "it  is  a  safe 
rule  in  life  never  to  discuss  one  woman  you  are  fond  of 
with  another.  You  understand  Vittoria  right  enough, 
but  Alicia  —  "  A  long  breath  of  cigarette  smoke  com- 
pleted the  sentence. 

And  Jasper  with  all  his  love  and  reverence  had  an 
uneasy  feeling  that  Bunny  was  right. 

"  You  had  better  read  me  the  one-act  play  now,"  said 
he. 

It  was  two  o'clock  when  he  stood  outside  his  own 
door  in  Gower  Street.  Somehow  he  seemed  to  have 
added  Bunny's  love  affair  to  his  responsibilities,  and  for 
the  first  time  for  weeks  he  mounted  the  stairs  to  his 
bedroom  unthoughtful  of  the  man  Burke. 


147 


CHAPTER   XI 

IT  fell  out  however,  a  short  while  later,  that  Bunny 
did  read  his  play  to  Lady  Alicia.     In  her  sweet  un- 
awareness  of  the  fiery  influences  that  were  at  work  on 
Bunny's  genius,  she  had  insisted  upon  it. 

"  You  were  never  going  to  send  the  play  in  without 
letting  me  hear  it  ?  "  she  had  said  reproachfully.  And  the 
young  man,  who  could  by  no  means  plead  a  habit  of 
shy  secrecy  as  to  his  productions,  consented  with  a 
somewhat  simulated  eagerness.  So  one  Sunday  evening 
Lady  Alicia  gathered  her  coterie  together,  —  Jasper,  the 
Edorys,  Elinor  Currey,  and  one  or  two  others, —  and 
Bunny,  with  picturesque  descriptions  of  stage  effects, 
read  The  Chian  Wine.  At  first  he  felt  a  certain  em- 
barrassment in  revealing  his  heart  of  flame  to  this 
polite  assembly,  and  to  her  who  had  been  in  some 
measure  his  Egeria.  His  voice  faltered  over  the  open- 
ing lines.  But  soon  he  lost  everything  in  the  poet's 
absorption.  Time  and  space  were  not.  He  read  with 
dramatic  glow,  all  his  soul  trembling  in  eyes  and  voice, 
and  poured  forth  unheedingly  the  flood  of  his  young 
passion.  He  ended  on  a  note  of  exultation,  leaped  to 
his  feet,  and  dashed  down  the  manuscript,  carried  away  ; 
and  he  stood  still,  breathing  hard,  amid  a  tense  silence  ; 
for  the  passion  had  gripped  all  his  hearers,  and  they 

148 


The  Usurper 

looked  at  him  somewhat  pale,  scared,  vehemently 
struggling  to  regain  balance.  It  lasted  but  two  or 
three  seconds;  then  the  reaction  came  and  they  broke 
into  enthusiastic  applause. 

u  By  heaven  !  "  cried  Edory  the  Royal  Academician, 
"  I  '11  design  the  setting  for  you.  Campion  can  have 
it  as  a  gift  if  he  likes.  The  amber  sky  and  turquoise 
sea,  and  the  white  temples  gleaming  out  of  the  cypresses, 
and  the  marble  steps,  and  the  blood-purple  tent.  Where 
the  deuce  did  you  get  your  c  blood-purple  '  from  ?  What 
a  colour  scheme  I  could  make  of  it !  For  God's  sake, 
don't  let  your  scene-painter  desecrate  it." 

a  You  '11  send  Upper  Tooting  home  thinking,  Bunny," 
said  Mainwaring. 

"  Feeling,  you  mean,"  cried  Elinor  Currey,  "  shaking 
to  their  Tooting  depths." 

u  Not  to  say  drunk,"  said  Mainwaring.  u  You  '11  be 
responsible  for  all  kinds  of  volcanic  eruptions." 

"  But  who  '11  play  it  ?  "  said  Elinor  Currey.  "  Cam- 
pion ?  With  his  sentimental  Orlandoish  airs  and  graces  ? 
The  model  exponent  of  the  histrionic  art  for  every 
school  for  young  ladies  in  London  ?  You  want  someone 
*  beyond  a  mortal  man  impassioned  far '  to  carry  it  over 
the  footlights  in  spite  of  Mr.  Edory's  scenery,  and 
you  're  not  going  to  get  him." 

" '  I  'd  as  lief  the  town-crier  spoke  my  lines,'  "  chimed 
in  Cudby,  from  the  corner  where  he  sat  nursing  his  leg. 
Lady  Alicia  had  only  recently  made  his  acquaintance, 
and  divided  her  newest  delight  between  him  and  a 
yellow  majolica  cat  with  magenta  whiskers  that  stood 

149 


The  Usurper 

with  a  wistful  look  of  unutterable  sadness,  penate-like, 
on  her  summer  hearth. 

"  The  drama,"  he  continued,  "  would  be  the  highest 
of  all  the  arts  if  there  were  no  actors." 

The  talk  proceeded  in  a  light  vein  of  admiration.  It 
was  a  typical  cultivated  English  audience,  seeking  refuge 
in  conventional  wit  from  confession  of  elemental 
stirrings.  Meanwhile  Lady  Alicia  had  gone  to  Bunny 
with  outstretched  hand. 

"  It  is  very,  very  beautiful,  Bunny,"  she  said  in  a  low 
voice.  Her  eyes  were  somewhat  pathetic.  In  a  dim 
way  she  knew  that  she  had  no  concern  in  the  making 
of  this  passionate  thing,  that  he  had  escaped  far  beyond 
the  fragrant  sphere  in  which  his  earlier  verse  had  been 
written  and  in  which  it  had  enchanted  her  to  guide  him 
by  subtle  feminine  revelations.  For  the  first  time  she 
felt  certain  of  the  existence  of  the  crimson  flower  in  the 
sunshine. 

"  I  'm  so  glad  you  like  it,  Alicia,"  he  cried,  with  the 
glow  of  his  excitement  still  upon  his  face.  "  I  was  afraid 
you  would  n't." 

"Why?" 

"You  don't  like  primary  colours  and  primary  emotions, 
as  a  rule.  I  thought  this  play  might  be  too  violent  for 
you." 

"  I  love  all  beautiful  things,"  she  returned  sweetly, 
"  and  I  hope,  Bunny  dear,  that  this  will  bring  you  great 
fame  and  great  happiness." 

She  smiled  upon  him  with  exceeding  kindness,  and 
went  to  her  other  guests,  an  odd  little  ache  in  her  heart. 


The  Usurper 

Bunny's  apology  was  somewhat  self-conscious.  It  was 
half  a  confession.  She  remembered  the  weekly  love- 
verses.  Hitherto  her  hyper-refinement  of  temperament 
had  merely  revolted  at  their  sensuousness.  The  kissing 
of  eyelids  and  the  trembling  of  parted  lips  and  such  things 
in  Swinburne  and  even  in  Mrs.  Browning's  u  Sonnets 
from  the  Portuguese"  had  always  been  repugnant  to 
the  delicate  chastity  of  her  unawakened  womanhood. 
So  were  the  imageries  in  Bunny's  newest  lyrics.  But 
now  she  saw  them  drawn  from  the  same  source  of  in- 
spiration as  the  play.  She  liked  neither  the  play  nor 
the  passion  nor  the  inspiration,  and  she  felt  absurdly 
hurt  by  the  fact  of  Bunny  having  fallen  in  love,  and 
with  an  entirely  unknown  young  woman  whose  person- 
ality baffled  speculation. 

Later  in  the  evening  she  stood  for  a  few  moments 
alone  with  Jasper  on  the  balcony.  They  discussed  the 
play,  touched  on  Bunny's  future. 

"He  is  getting  beyond  us,"  sighed  Lady  Alicia. 

"  He  must  drink  his  fill  of  life,"  said  Jasper.  "  It 
may  be  good  for  him  and  it  may  be  bad.  Who  can 
tell  ? " 

"  I  half  wish  it  might  be  bad." 

"  So  that  the  prodigal  may  return  and  be  stuffed  with 
fatted  calf?" 

*"  More  or  less.  It  sounds  cruel  and  selfish.  But  I 
don't  like  his  running  riot  in  his  poetry.  I  want  him 
to  sing  in  my  way  —  the  way  I  love.  You  see,"  she 
added  after  a  pause,  with  a  little  embarrassed  laugh,  "  I 
have  been  a  kind  of  godmother  to  him.  He  used  to 


The  Usurper 

shew  me  his  verses  as  soon  as  they  were  written.  Now 
I  see  them  first  in  print,  and  they  appear  the  work  of  a 
certain  Mr.  Bonamy  Tredgold  and  not  of  the  Bunny 
I  know.  He  does  seem  like  a  prodigal,  wasting  his 
poetical  substance  with  riotous  living.  Yes,  perhaps 
that  is  why  I  want  him  to  return  to  us  —  before  he  has 
had  any  husks  to  eat.  The  fatted  calf  won't  do  him 
any  harm." 

u  I  '11  keep  a  sharp  eye  upon  him,"  said  Jasper,  simply. 

She  murmured  deep  thanks.  London  held  so  many 
temptations  for  a  man  of  Bunny's  temperament.  His 
genius  must  not  be  destroyed  or  harmed.  A  word  from 
an  elder  man  whom  he  loved  and  respected  might  keep 
him  from  precipices.  She  hovered  round  the  edge  of 
the  question  she  dared  not  ask.  Jasper,  blinded  both 
by  his  ignorance  of  woman  in  general  and  by  his  ever 
hungering  love  of  the  particular  divinity,  saw  in  her 
solicitude  nothing  but  godmotherly  affection.  Yet  he 
was  acute  enough  to  perceive  that  she  suspected  unhappy 
influences  in  Bunny's  life.  He  felt  embarrassed.  It 
would  have  been  delightful  to  go  knight-errant  at  her 
bidding  to  deliver  this  young  fairy  prince  of  song  from 
the  wiles  of  dark  enchantresses,  but  his  knowledge  of 
men  assured  him  that  any  attempt  to  stand  between 
Bunny  and  Vittoria  would  be  futile,  if  not  disastrous. 
He  hastened  to  deprecate  Lady  Alicia's  gratitude. 

u  I  shall  always  love  the  boy  and  befriend  him,"  said 
he.  "  But  you  know,  dear  Lady  Alicia,  every  man 
has  to  walk  unaided  through  the  flames  he  has  lit  for 
himself." 

152 


The  Usurper 

"  A  friend  can  stop  his  hand." 

u  A  man  lights  his  flames  unknown  to  all  save  him- 
self and  God." 

"  But  why  do  men  do  it  ?  "  cried  Lady  Alicia. 

u  Not  only  men  —  women,"  said  Jasper.  "  It  is  a 
blind  law  of  life." 

u  No,"  she  protested.  "  No.  Anyone  can  lead  a 
calm,  rational,  equable  existence.  So  long  as  one  is 
sane,  I  can't  understand  how  one  can  be  driven  by  any 
law  into  crime  or  crazy  passions.'  This  play  of  Bunny's 
—  it  is  not  true  to  normal  life — it  makes  me  shiver  as 
if  I  had  been  among  mad  people.  The  normal  intellect 
sees  things  in  their  right  proportions.  Yours  does.  I 
hope  mine  does." 

"  Perhaps  a  poet  sees  things  in  their  divine  propor- 
tions," said  Jasper. 

"When  the  poet  is  inspired  from  on  high — certainly. 
When  the  inspiration  is  tainted,  his  vision  is  distorted. 
I  wish  you  would  agree  with  me." 

Lady  Alicia  was  vexed,  and  she  spoke  with  some 
petulance.  His  persistence  in  not  recognising  her 
desire  for  definite  information  concerning  Bunny  irritated 
her.  His  quiet  acquiescence  in  Bunny's  ruin  made  her 
angry.  And  she  did  not  like  her  postulates  to  be  ques- 
tioned. He  looked  at  her  in  some  alarm.  How  had 
his  clumsiness  offended  her  ?  Then  through  the  veil 
of  his  dear  illusion  he  saw  her  as  a  pure  crystal  soul  into 
which  evil  had  never  entered,  and  like  a  foolish  and 
simple  man  he  reverenced  her  the  more. 

"  It  is  right  that  I  should  agree  with  you,"  he  said. 


The  Usurper 

Something  in  his  odd  dignity  and  tenderness  touched 
her.  She  was  also  ashamed  of  having  fallen  from  her 
standard  of  impeccability,  and  anxious  to  right  herself  in 
his  eyes.  She  obeyed  an  attractive  instinct. 

"Forgive  me  for  being  cross  —  Cousin  Jasper,"  she 
whispered. 

The  word  was  like  a  stab  and  a  kiss.  It  sounded 
unutterably  sweet  from  her  lips.  It  hurt  like  a  pain 
through  his  vitals.  Yet  to  hear  her  say  it  was  worth  all 
agonies.  He  grew  reckless. 

"  '  Cousin  Jasper  '  implies  c  Cousin  Alicia,'  "  said  he. 

" c  Alicia,'  if  you  like.  Why  not,  since  you  at  last 
recognise  our  cousinship  ?  " 

She  had  recovered  her  unruffled  air  of  one  who  gives 
largesse  of  favour  to  humble  folk,  and  she  was  con- 
scious of  royal  atonement  for  her  pettiness.  She  also 
thought  it  was  very  nice  of  Jasper  not  to  refer  to 
the  forgiveness. 

The  suggested  intimacy  of  the  Christian  name  warmed 
him. 

"  It  would  be  a  very  sweet  privilege  to  call  you  so," 
he  said  in  his  old-fashioned  way. 

He  sought  tremulously  to  accustom  himself  to  this 
same  privilege  on  his  way  home  with  Bunny.  At  the 
second  mention  of  the  untitled  name  Bunny  glanced  at 
him  sharply. 

"  I  'm  glad  you  've  got  to  that,"  he  said.  "  It 's  rubbish 
to  have  c  Misters '  and  c  Ladies '  and  things  between 
cousins." 

"  You  know  of  the  relationship,  then?  "  asked  Jasper. 


The  Usurper 

"  Of  course.  Am  I  not  of  the  family  ?  My 
mother  was  a  Harden.  Alicia's  mother  was  a  Vellacot. 
The  two  lots  have  been  mixed  up  once  or  twice  before. 
I  know  the  respectable  history  of  the  crowd.  I  never 
referred  to  your  connection  with  it,  because  Alicia  gave 
me  to  understand  that  you  seemed  not  to  like  it  men- 
tioned. Anyhow  I  'm  glad.  And  in  a  sort  of  way 
you  're  my  cousin  too.  That 's  ripping." 

"  Do  you  know,  Bunny,"  said  Jasper,  sedately,  "  that 
for  a  poet  your  colloquial  English  is  abominable." 

"  My  hat !  "  laughed  Bunny.  "  You  can't  expect  a 
fellow  to  ride  Pegasus  all  day  long.  You  'd  give  the 
poor  beast  a  sore  back  !  " 

They  parted  at  the  bottom  of  Bloomsbury  Street. 
As  soon  as  Jasper  was  well  on  his  way  homewards 
Bunny  slipped  back  down  Shaftesbury  Avenue  in  the 
hope  of  catching  a  glimpse  of  the  shadow  of  the  beloved 
one  behind  her  bedroom  blinds.  Her  window  was  illu- 
minated, but  there  was  no  shadow.  In  happy  ignorance 
of  the  fact  that  the  girl  was  sobbing  her  heart  out  on 
her  bed,  he  kissed  his  hand  to  the  square  of  yellow 
light  and  went  home  to  sleep,  the  happiest  poet  in 
London. 

And  while  he  slept  like  a  healthy  young  animal,  after 
a  few  brief,  delicious,  drowsy  dreams  of  Vittoria,  Lady 
Alicia  lay  amid  dainty  and  unwhisperable  frills,  and  wooed 
slumber  with  the  De  Imitatione  Ckristi,  which  she  felt 
pathetically  to  be  the  work  of  a  very  worthy  but  most 
unpractical  saint. 

And  Jasper,  when  he  let  himself  in  with  his  latchkey, 


The  Usurper 

was  startled  to  see  a  human  form  lying  in  the  hall  at  the 
foot  of  the  stairs.  It  was  that  of  a  man  in  pyjamas  and 
barefoot.  He  approached  and  recognised  Burke.  Shak- 
ing did  not  arouse  him.  Then  it  dawned  upon  Jasper 
that  Burke  was  dead  drunk.  He  switched  on  the  full 
electric  light  in  the  hall  and  bent  over  the  man.  There 
was  no  mistake.  His  convulsed  features  and  stertorous 
breathing  and  the  stale  smell  of  whisky  left  no  room  for 
doubt.  But  why  should  he,  who  lived  in  the  adjoining 
house,  be  lying  there  in  night  attire  ?  Jasper  was  puzzled 
as  well  as  deeply  disgusted.  In  spite  of  the  vicissitudes 
and  sordidness  of  his  early  colonial  life,  he  had  always 
had  a  temperamental  repugnance  to  drunkenness.  Genial 
good-fellowship  induced  by  alcohol  he  could  understand; 
but  the  sheerly  bestial  was  loathsome  to  him. 

Burke,  however,  could  not  be  left  there  all  night.  It 
was  nearly  one  o'clock,  and  the  house  was  quite  silent. 
He  would  have  to  carry  him  unaided  to  his  room.  To 
prepare  for  this  adventure  he  walked  alone  up  to  Burke's 
apartments,  turning  on  the  electric  lights  as  he  went. 
In  the  sitting-room  he  found  an  empty  bottle  of  whisky 
and  a  couple  of  empty  siphons  on  the  table.  A  cork- 
screw with  a  cork  at  the  end  of  it  prettily  completed 
circumstantial  evidence  of  the  amount  consumed.  Light- 
ing up  the  bedroom,  Jasper  saw  that  Burke  had  already 
gone  to  bed  at  some  period  of  the  evening.  He  retraced 
his  steps,  and  with  a  strength  with  which  few  would 
have  credited  his  stooping  figure,  he  picked  up  the 
drunken  man,  threw  him  over  his  shoulder,  and  stag- 
gered with  the  burden  through  corridors  and  up  stairs  to 

156 


The  Usurper 

the  man's  bedside.     Then   he  shut   doors,  turned  off 
lights,  and  went  to  his  own  room. 

He  fell  asleep,  grimly  unrepentant  of  the  acknowledged 
cousinship.  Burke  was  not  a  blood-relation  for  Lady 
Alicia  Harden  to  be  proud  of. 


157 


CHAPTER   XII 

THE  kiss  in  Epping  Forest  was  the  first  of  an  infinite 
series.  It  was  bound  so  to  be,  in  spite  of  wise 
feminine  prohibitions.  Not  only  were  Vittoria's  fresh 
lips  maddeningly  alluring,  but  also  Bunny  had  an  im- 
perious way  with  him  that  compelled  the  young  female 
not  loath  to  be  subdued.  And  after  all,  what  were  kisses  ? 
At  last  she  ceased  to  remonstrate.  Sometimes  of  her 
own  accord  she  would  lay  her  cheek  to  his  and  coo 
adorably  into  his  ear.  Sometimes  she  teased  him,  as- 
sumed the  airs  of  a  woman  of  business  whose  serious 
thoughts  were  rooted  in  the  conduct  of  the  restaurant, 
and  treated  him  like  a  spoilt  boy.  It  amused  her  to  see 
his  cheek  flush  and  to  hear  the  impatient  note  in  his 
voice.  At  other  times  she  hinted  darkly  of  days  when 
this  sweet  fooling  must  end,  talked  sombrely  of  the 
complications  of  life.  In  these  moods  she  gave  utter- 
ance to  profound  and  bitter  pessimism  which  startled 
him  and  caused  him  to  press  her  for  definite  statement 
of  grievances.  She  replied  vaguely,  deep  melancholy 
veiling  her  beautiful  eyes.  Once  she  burst  into  a  pas- 
sion of  tears,  wishing  to  God  that  she  had  never  left  the 
convent.  It  was  the  only  place  where  peace  could  be 
found  on  earth.  At  other  times,  again,  it  pleased  her 
to  dazzle  him  with  her  intellectual  attainments.  She 
talked  art,  books,  love,  religion,  the  philosophy  of  life. 

158 


The  Usurper 

Intuitively  she  said  the  right  word,  leaving  him  to  dis- 
course in  his  favourite  fashion,  and  to  rate  her  compre- 
hension highly. 

For  all  the  kisses  and  soft  murmurings  and  rapturous 
moments  of  abandonment,  he  had  not  yet  obtained 
from  her  a  confession  of  love.  His  own  passion  he  had 
poured  out  to  her  like  the  floods  of  an  inexhaustible  river. 
But,  coquette  to  her  lips,  she  kept  him  in  a  state  of  deli- 
cious torment.  Also  her  deeper  nature  held  her  back  in 
a  kind  of  terror  from  such  an  avowal. 

"  I  shall  not  let  you  go  till  you  tell  me,"  he  would  say, 
holding  her,  half  playfully,  half  fiercely.  She  would 
throw  back  her  head  and  look  at  him  languorously, 
mockingly ;  and  then  suddenly  he  would  feel  a  shiver 
run  through  her,  and  her  face  would  grow  hard,  and  she 
would  wrench  herself  free  with  an  expression  of  anger, 
which  outburst  would  be  immediately  followed  by  an 
atoning  mood  of  sweet  humility.  He  found  her  an 
amazing  epitome  of  woman. 

One  evening  in  August  she  announced  to  him  her  de- 
parture the  next  morning  for  a  visit  to  Italy.  She  would 
be  away  two  or  three  months.  Her  object  was  partly 
business,  partly  pleasure.  Bunny  looked  at  her  aghast. 
He  was  supping  at  his  usual  table.  She  had  left  the  bar, 
as  the  restaurant  was  empty,  and  sat  opposite  to  him,  her 
elbows  on  the  table,  watching  him  eat. 

"  Three  whole  months  ?  " 

She  nodded.  "  Among  my  own  people.  We  are  very 
funny,  we  Neapolitans.  How  would  you  like  to  see  me 
come  back  with  the  sfregio  across  my  face  ? " 


The  Usurper 

"The  what  ?  "  asked  Bunny. 

"  When  a  man  of  the  Camorra  has  a  sweetheart  and 
wants  to  keep  her  from  other  men,  he  marks  her  across 
the  cheek  —  so  —  with  a  razor.  That  is  the  sfregio" 

"  Shall  I  send  you  away  with  it  ?  "  he  asked,  his  eyes 
deep  in  hers. 

For  answer  she  rose,  met  his  gaze  with  responsive  fire, 
and  bending  over  him  threw  her  arms  around  his  neck 
and  kissed  him  passionately  on  the  mouth.  She  had 
never  before  kissed  him  of  her  own  accord. 

"  If  you  only  would  !  "  she  cried  hoarsely. 

Then  without  another  word  she  rushed  away  through 
a  side-door  which  she  slammed  behind  her. 

It  was  an  astonishing  leave-taking.  He  did  not  see 
her  again  that  evening,  though  he  lingered  impatiently 
while  Antonelli,  who  came  in  later,  unfolded  to  him  his 
childlike  views  on  English  politics.  The  next  morning 
he  learned  that  Vittoria  had  started  for  Italy.  The  pro- 
spective three  months  of  separation  from  the  adored  one 
loomed  before  him  like  an  eternity.  But  the  memory 
of  the  passionate  kiss  filled  him  with  hitherto  inconceiv- 
able happiness.  The  bewildering  wish  that  he  should 
cut  her  cheek  open  with  a  razor  was  beyond  his  phi- 
losophy of  woman.  As  he  could  not  fathom  its  signifi- 
cance, he  dismissed  it  from  his  mind.  The  kiss  is 
enshrined  in  one  of  his  lyrics  over  which,  afterwards, 
Lady  Alicia  shed  not  a  few  tears. 

The  weeks  went  by.  In  late  September  Bunny  found 
himself  staying  at  Greybrooke,  Lady  Alicia's  place  in 
Hertfordshire.  This  year,  Lady  Luxmoore's  gout 

160 


The  Usurper 

having  contented  itself  with  Harrogate,  Lady  Alicia 
remained  at  home,  and  gathered  together  a  house  party 
which  included  most  of  her  favourites.  Bunny,  who 
had  repented  him  of  his  neglect  since  her  sweet  reception 
of  the  play  and  had  re-established  his  old  friendly  rela- 
tions with  her,  shot  partridges  all  day  to  his  heart's 
content,  and  argued  fiercely  with  Elinor  Currey  most 
of  the  evening.  To  Alicia's  gladness  he  plotted  with 
her  the  outline  of  a  pastoral  drama,  all  in  Dresden-china 
colours.  One  could  not  always  erupt  molten  lava,  he  said. 
Even  Vesuvius  had  its  vine-clad  moments.  He  reserved 
his  raptures  for  his  letters  to  Vittoria,  of  which  Alicia 
fortunately  knew  nothing.  Vittoria's  replies  were  few 
and  enigmatic.  This  is  a  specimen  : — 

DEAREST  BON  AMI,  —  You  mustn't  write  like  this.  I  have 
to  lock  up  your  letters.  Where,  the  whole  Camorra  would  not 
drag  from  me  —  nor  you,  either.  If  Cicilio  saw  them,  he 
would  come  to  England  and  stab  you.  Cicilio  is  my  cousin. 
He  is  a  tremendous  person.  He  keeps  a  wine-shop  and  con- 
spires against  governments.  You  have  to  penetrate  through  a 
ten-foot  wall  of  garlic  to  arrive  at  the  Presence,  and  then  you  see 
a  hook-nosed  thing  with  a  red  handkerchief  on  his  head,  and 
earrings,  and  about  five  shades  darker  than  I  am.  Giuseppe  is 
here  too,  conspiring  like  anything.  He  is  also  running  a  lottery 
syndicate  from  which  we  are  all  going  to  make  our  fortunes. 
If  you  were  a  real  poet  you  would  give  me  a  lot  of  winning 
numbers.  I  wear  the  costume  of  the  country.  It  is  most  be- 
coming. I  do  look  like  a  Del  Sarto  contadina  now.  You 
would  write  a  pretty  poem  about  me,  Bon  Ami.  Do  you  know, 
I  must  be  quite  two  persons.  One  is  just  like  any  girl  here,  with 
"  161 


The  Usurper 

not  an  idea  in  her  head  beyond  an  occasional  gita  with  her 
lover,  and  the  lottery  and  Mass,  and  the  quarrel  between 
Luigi  and  Felipe.  The  latter  had  five  stabs.  We  counted  them 
as  the  police  took  him  away.  I  danced  the  night  before  with 
Luigi.  And  somehow  the  Neapolitan  /  still  thinks  him  rather 
nice.  The  other  person  is  the  sophisticated  (there,  I '  ve 
got  it  out  —  you  taught  me  the  word,  //  ricordi?)  young 
London  person  who  looks  upon  them  all  as  the  impossible 
people  of  comic  opera,  and  longs  for  her  nice  neat  clothes  and 
the  talks  about  the  things  that  matter  with  her  dear  Bon  Ami. 
The  one  /  has  read  Browning  ;  the  other  can't  read  or  write 
and  doesn't  want  to.  It  almost  went  to  Gianelli  who  keeps 
the  stationer's  shop  round  the  corner  and  asked  him  to  write  this 
letter  to  you.  Giuseppe's  sister,  Marietta,  always  does  this  when 
she  wants  to  write  a  love  letter.  But  she  has  n't  anything  to  say 
except,  "  Tell  him  I  love  him  molto  molto  —  and  —  ebbene — that 
Hove  him."  Would  you  like  to  get  such  a  letter,  Bon  Ami? 
The  Italian  Vittoria  is  as  happy  as  the  Bay  of  Naples  on  a  sunny 
day.  The  English  Vittoria  is  sad  —  oh,  so  sad,  dear.  She 
longs  for  Soho —  for  the  sound  of  your  dear  voice  —  for  other 
things  that  only  you  and  I  know  of.  Oh,  Bon  Ami,  I  want 
you  so  much. 

Yours  sincerely, 

VITTORIA. 

P.  S.  You  will  observe  that  it  is  the  sophisticated  /  who 
writes. 

Her  swift  intelligence  had  caught  the  trick  of  the 
epistolary  style.  Odd  scraps  of  Bunny's  talk  appeared 
in  her  letters,  such  as  "  the  things  that  matter."  She 
was  clever  too  in  hiding  her  real  feelings  behind  this 
ingeniously  devised  dual  personality.  She  kept  him  in 

162 


The  Usurper 

a  lover's  sweet  torment.  He  idealised  her  into  a  unique 
creation  among  women.  She  was  a  thing  apart,  an 
anomaly,  a  splendid  creature  with  a  genius  of  personality 
that  took  its  own  rank  in  the  body  social.  He  de- 
veloped his  views  with  much  poetic  imagery  to  Jasper, 
who  had  stolen  a  week  from  affairs  to  join  Lady  Alicia's 
house-party.  Jasper  posed  as  the  man  of  the  world  and 
gave  him  sound  advice.  He  was  laughed  at,  detected 
in  his  imposture.  Once,  while  they  were  out  shooting 
together,  he  attacked  the  youth  on  the  side  of  his  art. 
Had  he  considered  what  deteriorating  influence  this  in- 
fatuation might  have?  Whereupon  Bunny  sprang  up 
like  a  young  wolf,  dashing  back  his  black  curls  and 
showing  his  white  teeth,  and  drew  a  crumpled  sheet 
from  his  pocket. 

"  Read  that !  " 

So  Jasper  read. 

"It 's  devilish  good,  Bunny." 

"  Good  ?  I  should  think  it  is  good,  and  if  infatuation 
can  produce  that,  it 's  a  state  to  thank  Almighty  God 
for.  Hurt  my  art !  Why,  it  's  the  infinite  dazzling 
variety  of  her  that  stimulates  it  from  every  side  !  " 

"There  is  such  a  thing  as  super-stimulation.  Physi- 
ology teaches  that  it  leads  to  insensibility  —  or  madness." 

"  Bosh  !  "  said  Bunny.  "  What  has  physiology  got 
to  do  with  poetry  ?  No,  I  'm  not  going  to  argue.  It 's 
too  hot.  I  'd  like  to  lie  on  my  back  on  a  wisp  of  that 
cirrus  up  there.  Just  think  of  the  ecstatic  loneliness  of 
it  —  one  human  soul  poised  in  illimitable  ether." 

He  talked    on   in    his    discursive    way,   eating    sand- 


The  Usurper 

wiches  beneath  a  hedge,  sometimes  addressing  Jasper, 
who  lunched  by  his  side,  and  sometimes  a  yellow  setter, 
who  listened  with  profound  attention. 

It  ended  by  Jasper  becoming  convinced  that  Vittoria 
was  specially  designed  by  Providence  as  a  mate  for 
Bunny.  He  forgot  the  smell  of  the  eating-house,  saw 
only  the  splendid  night-eyed  Del  Sarto  woman  of  Bunny's 
dream.  It  became  a  beautiful  romance  whose  reflections 
coloured  his  own  life.  He  was  surprised  to  find  how 
dear  the  boy  had  grown  to  him. 

The  late  autumn  saw  every  one  back  in  London.  It 
was  a  time  of  depression.  England  was  at  war,  and 
prophets  of  evil  arose  and  uttered  jeremiads,  and  anxious 
hollow-eyed  crowds  gathered  in  the  War  Office  lob- 
bies. Bunny  worked  at  his  pastoral  drama  somewhat 
forcedly.  A  newspaper  from  which  he  drew  a  couple  of 
guineas  a  week  failed.  Other  journalistic  work  was 
scarce,  as  the  public  wanted  nothing  that  did  not  refer 
to  the  war.  Campion  postponed  the  production  of  The 
Cblan  Wine  to  the  spring.  Bunny  was  like  to  fall  back 
onto  evil  days.  And  Vittoria  was  still  in  Italy.  He 
hungered  for  her.  Jasper's  life  pursued  its  strenuous 
course.  Money  poured  into  his  coffers ;  he  was  inde- 
fatigable in  the  Danaid  task  of  emptying  them.  Burke 
got  drunk  once  or  twice,  and  began  to  grumble  and  grow 
careless  over  his  clerical  duties.  He  threw  out  hints  to 
Cudby  that  he  was  lonely.  Why  could  n't  Mr.  Vellacot 
introduce  him  into  some  society  ?  Eating  in  solitude 
drove  a  man  to  drink.  Cudby  met  his  hints  with  sar- 
castic replies,  and  forbore  to  mention  the  matter  to  Jasper 

164 


The  Usurper 

for  fear  of  adding  to  his  anxieties.  And  Jasper,  although 
he  could  not  fail  to  see  the  beginnings  of  discontent  in 
Burke,  dismissed  the  matter  as  much  as  possible  from 
his  mind.  Bunny's  financial  affairs  began  to  trouble 
him.  He  discussed  with  Lady  Alicia  many  schemes  for 
putting  him  beyond  the  reach  of  want.  Of  course  there 
were  posts  under  his  own  control  that  Bunny  could  have 
filled.  But  there  was  the  sensitive  pride  of  the  young 
man  to  reckon  with.  Any  suggestion  of  charity  would 
have  been  furiously  rejected.  At  last  one  evening  they 
conceived  a  brilliant  idea.  Jasper  would  start  a  Sunday 
newspaper  on  Tory  democratic  lines.  Lady  Alicia 
could  put  her  hand  upon  an  ideal  editor,  Humphrey 
Gittens,  who  had  just  retired  from  controlling  an  impor- 
tant weekly.  Jasper  knew  him.  The  very  man.  And 
of  course  Bunny  could  take  over  the  literary  editorship. 
Jasper  left  her  at  a  late  hour,  his  head  full  of  the  project. 

Meanwhile  things  were  happening.  Some  days  before 
this  Vittoria  returned  to  London.  In  the  joy  of  seeing 
her  Bunny  forgot  his  difficulties.  She  had  grown  more 
beautiful,  more  lithe  in  her  movements;  a  duskier  glow 
burned  in  her  eyes.  It  was  unutterable  happiness  to  be 
back,  to  see  her  dear  Bon  Ami  again.  Had  he  pined 
much  for  her  ?  Could  he  write  his  poetry  without  her  ? 
She  herself  had  longed,  had  felt  things  —  oh,  things  that 
could  only  be  whispered,  not  set  on  paper. 

"  Then  you  do  love  me,  dear  ? "  he  asked. 

They  were  walking  amid  the  November  fog  in  St. 
James's  Park.  Bunny  had  said  that  it  was  a  kindly  veil 
shrouding  them  from  the  noisy  world.  It  was  the  love- 

165 


The  Usurper 

liest  day  for  three  months,  Vittoria  being  the  sun  and  the 
moon  and  the  light  thereof.  Her  cheek,  flushed  with 
past  sunshine  and  the  walk,  was  wet  with  the  moist  air, 
and  she  looked  infinitely  to  be  desired. 

He  repeated  his  question.  She  glanced  shyly  at  him, 
let  her  head  sink  on  his  shoulder,  and  murmured  unim- 
portant things  as  he  kissed  her.  And  Bunny  went  home 
drunk  with  happiness.  Of  course  she  loved  him.  He 
had  been  a  fool  to  doubt.  The  whole  soul  of  the  boy 
was  aflame.  He  could  not  sleep.  He  wondered  how 
he  had  slept  so  calmly  all  these  months.  Could  he  have 
loved  her,  wanted  her,  as  he  did  now  ?  Suddenly  he 
became  aware  of  crisis.  This  indeterminate  state  of 
things  could  not  last.  He  awoke  to  an  imperious  crav- 
ing that  occasional  speech  with  her  would  not  satisfy. 
She  must  be  all  and  everything  in  his  life.  Together 
they  would  conquer  the  earth. 

For  two  or  three  days  he  could  not  see  her  alone. 
Impatience  became  intensified  to  torture.  He  burned 
to  carry  her  off  there  and  then  from  the  dingy  cave  of 
the  Hotel  Bomboni  to  his  palace  in  the  clouds.  At  last 
the  fly-blown  restaurant  was  empty.  The  youth  Auguste 
had  shut  the  door  behind  the  last  of  the  diners  and  had 
retired  to  his  supper.  The  cat,  Corpo  di  Bacco,  blinked 
comfortably  on  the  counter,  while  Vittoria  caressed  its 
back.  It  was  cold,  and  the  door  leading  into  Antonelli's 
domino-parlour,  as  Bunny  called  it,  was  shut.  Then 
Bunny  leaped  to  his  feet. 

"  For  God's  sake,  Vittoria,  come  out  for  a  little  with 


166 


The  Usurper 

"  Oh,  you  've  frightened  Corpo  di  Bacco  away.  He 
must  have  thought  you  some  horrible  destroying  angel. 
Come  out  with  you  ?  Why,  my  dear  Bon  Ami  —  it  is 
pouring  wet.  Listen  to  the  rain." 

u  It 's  not  raining,"  said  Bunny. 

But  a  quick  rush  to  the  restaurant  door  shewed  him 
that  it  was.  He  came  back,  took  both  her  hands  in  his. 
Somehow  his  ready  flow  of  talk  failed  him.  He  looked 
into  her  eyes. 

"  Vittoria,  I  can't  stand  this  any  longer." 

"  Bon  Ami,  be  sensible." 

"I  am  mad — mad  for  love  of  you,  Vittoria." 

She  turned  her  face  away  from  him  and  glanced  at 
him  sideways. 

"  I  am  your  very  humble  servant,  Bon  Ami,"  she  said. 

"  You  're  the  wife  that  God  has  appointed  for  me," 
he  said  in  a  rush,  u  and  I  can't  live  without  you,  and  you 
must  leave  this  infernal  place  to-morrow  and  we  '11  be 
married  as  soon  as  we  can." 

She  drew  herself  up,  and  a  mischievous  mockery  was 
in  her  dark  eyes. 

"  Married  ?  "  she  echoed.  "  Oh,  but  you  go  fast,  Bon 
Ami." 

"  I  have  waited  long  enough,  dear,"  said  he. 

"  But  supposing,  sweetheart,  I  said  I  could  n't  ?  " 

"  That  is  supposing  folly." 

"  Oh  no,"  she  replied  teasingly.  "  You  are  not  the 
only  man  who  wants  to  marry  me.  I  am  already  be- 
trothed. It  was  about  this  that  I  went  to  Naples  — 
true  as  true  can  be." 


The  Usurper 

Bunny  released  her  hands,  and  smote  the  counter  with 
his  palm,  his  eyes  on  fire  with  sudden  jealousy. 

u  What  foolery  are  you  talking,  Vittoria  ? " 

She  smiled  at  his  anger,  and  stood  with  her  arms  be- 
hind her,  away  from  the  counter. 

u  I  told  you  I  was  two  people,  Bon  Ami,"  she  said. 
u  The  English  person  loves  you.  The  Neapolitan  person 
has  to  obey  Neapolitan  customs.  Marriages  among  Ital- 
ians are  family  affairs,  arranged,  oh,  ever  so  long  ago. 
A  girl  is  n't  consulted.  She  has  to  do  as  she  is  ordered. 
Uncle  Antonelli  arranged  it,  and  I  went  to  Naples  to  see 
my  fiance's  relations.  I  stayed  with  them.  They  said 
I  was  the  prettiest  girl  they  had  ever  set  eyes  on  and 
that  I  could  cook  beautifully." 

u  Are  you  going  mad  ?  "  said  Bunny,  unsteadily.  u  I 
am  not  jesting.  I  have  asked  you  to  be  my  wife." 

"  You  know  I  should  love  to  marry  you,  Bon  Ami," 
she  said,  thrilled  to  the  soul  with  the  joy  of  seeing  her 
power  over  him,  "but  a  good  little  Italian  girl  must  do 
as  she  is  told.  Giuseppe  is  going  to  buy  the  business  and 
me  with  it.  It  is  very  simple." 

Bunny  looked  at  her  stupidly.  Her  words  had  dazed 
him. 

"Giuseppe,  —  who  is  Giuseppe?"  he  stammered. 

At  that  moment  the  service-door  opened,  admitting 
a  stream  of  light  and  in  the  midst  of  it  appeared  the  head 
waiter,  greasy,  grinning,  and  ignoble,  who  had  come,  ac- 
cording to  custom,  to  present  Bunny's  bill.  Then  Bunny 
understood. 

"You  are  going  to  marry  that?"  he  cried  hoarsely. 
168 


The  Usurper 

"  I  am  betrothed  to  it,"  said  Vittoria,  with  a  provok- 
ing smile. 

Bunny  felt  sick,  horribly  dazed  and  sick.  He  clapped 
on  his  hat,  threw  a  handful  of  shillings  and  pence  onto 
the  floor,  and  went  out. 

"  But,  Bon  Ami !  Bon  Ami !  "  cried  Vittoria  in  sudden 
ringing  accents  of  remorse,  running  behind  the  bar  to- 
wards the  door. 

But  Bunny  passed  unheeding  into  the  street,  and 
walked  aimlessly,  blindly  through  the  pelting  rain  and 
mud,  jostling  passers-by  on  the  pavement,  escaping  death 
in  the  roadways  by  sub-conscious,  animal  instinct.  For 
two  or  three  hours  he  was  practically  insane.  He  never 
remembered  afterwards  where  he  had  gone,  how  long  he 
had  walked,  what  his  thoughts  had  been.  His  vague 
object  was  to  fly  from  a  pursuing  horror. 

At  last  he  recovered  consciousness  of  external  things 
and  found  himself  mounting  a  narrow  staircase  in  a  house. 
He  looked  around  him,  bewildered,  and  saw  by  the  dim 
point  of  gas  left  burning  that  he  was  on  the  way  to  his 
own  rooms  in  Great  Coram  Street. 


169 


CHAPTER  XIII 

'  I  VHE  millionaire  was  bending  down  before  the  grate, 
A  trying  to  make  a  bad  fire  draw  by  means  of  an 
open  newspaper,  when  Bunny  stumbled  into  the  room. 

"I  've  just  been  devising  a  great  scheme  to  make  the 
fortunes  of  both  of  us,  so  I  Ve  come  in  and  waited,"  he 
said  in  friendly  fashion  without  looking  up. 

Bunny  did  not  reply,  but  remained  on  the  threshold, 
the  door  open,  staring  at  him  stupidly.  Flames  having 
appeared  behind  the  newspaper,  Jasper  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  There  !  "  said  he,  triumphantly.  Then  turning,  his 
eyes  fell  on  Bunny. 

u  Good  heavens  !  lad,  what 's  the  matter  ?  " 

He  went  forward,  laid  his  hand  on  Bunny's  arm. 
Bunny  was  sopping  wet,  caked  with  mud  from  head  to 
foot ;  he  had  obviously  fallen  down ;  the  water  trickled 
from  the  brim  of  his  bowler  hat  and  dripped  from  the 
edges  of  his  jacket.  Jasper  shut  the  door. 

u  Change  all  these  soaking  clothes  and  come  and  warm 
yourself,"  said  he.  "  I  '11  help  you." 

With  singular  docility  Bunny  obeyed,  shivering  and 
muttering  below  his  breath,  and  checking  queer  little 
sobs  like  a  child  recovering  from  a  fit  of  temper.  Jasper, 
who  had  seen  men  hard  hit  before,  said  nothing,  but  aided 
him  to  strip  to  the  skin,  threw  him  a  towel  to  dry  him- 
self with,  and  made  him  get  into  some  old  flannels  which 

170 


The  Usurper 

he  found  hanging  behind  the  bedroom  door.  He  dis- 
covered a  bottle  of  whisky  in  the  cupboard  and  forced 
him  to  drink  a  stiff  glass.  Then  Bunny  sat  down  in 
front  of  the  fire,  looking  straight  before  him  and  holding 
out  his  sensitive  hands  to  the  blaze.  After  a  while  Jasper 
gripped  his  shoulder. 

"  Take  it  like  a  man,  sonny,  whatever  it  is,"  he  said 
kindly. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  must.  I  'm  ashamed  of  myself.  I  don't 
quite  know  what  has  happened  with  me,"  said  Bunny,  in 
a  queer  voice. 

"What's  the  trouble?" 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  he  said  between  his  teeth.  "  I  asked 
her  to  marry  me,  and  she  replied  that  she  was  going  to 
marry  the  waiter  ! " 

After  a  short  pause  he  shook  off  Jasper's  hand  and 
leaped  to  his  feet  and  broke  into  a  shriek  of  laughter  that 
was  not  pleasant  to  hear. 

"Steady  on,  Bunny,"  said  Jasper. 

But  Bunny  still  laughed. 

u  Don't  you  see  the  humour  of  it  ?  The  howling, 
screeching  farce  ?  I  give  her,  by  God,  the  whole  of  my 
soul,  and  she  elects  to  marry  the  waiter!  That  greasy 
bestial  devil  who  would  lick  any  man's  feet  for  sixpence ! 
My  hated  rival  —  mine  —  a  greasy  scullion  !  It 's  colos- 
sal, it 's  unimaginable  !  The  whole  of  earth  and  heaven 
is  shaking  with  inextinguishable  laughter !  The  anti- 
climax —  the  immeasurable  bathos  !  Why  don't  you 
laugh  ? " 

Jasper  shook  him  in  his  powerful  grasp.  "  Shut  up, 
171 


The  Usurper 

Bunny.  This  sort  of  thing  won't  do  you  any  good. 
Sit  down  quietly." 

He  pushed  him  back  into  the  chair,  and  there  he  sat 
hunching  his  shoulders  and  shuddering  with  disgust. 

u  Yes,  you  are  right,  Vellacot.  But,  by  God  —  it 's 
more  than  a  man  can  bear.  The  horrible  nausea  of  it. 
Perhaps  she  is  hugging  and  kissing  the  satyr  now.  A 
man  —  yes,  it  would  have  been  different  — but  that  ani- 
mal !  —  It 's  like  dreaming  of  paradise  and  waking  up 
and  finding  oneself  wallowing  in  unutterable  filth.  O 
God  !  O  God !  " 

He  rocked  to  and  fro,  his  hands  before  his  face. 
Jasper  put  some  more  coal  on  the  fire  and  stood  on  the 
hearth-rug,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets.  His  heart 
ached  for  the  lad. 

u  Most  men  have  got  to  carry  their  souls  through  hell 
once  in  their  lives,  Bunny.  I  've  done  it ;  perhaps  I  'm 
doing  it  still.  One  can  only  grit  one's  teeth  and  be  a 
man." 

"  I  shall  be  all  right  soon,"  said  Bunny.  "  Stay  with 
me  a  bit.  You  've  been  damned  good  to  me.  I  always 
felt  you  had  been  hit  somehow,  and  that  's  why  I  've 
been  able  to  talk  to  you." 

So  Jasper  sat  with  him  most  of  the  night,  doing  what 
he  could,  in  his  cool  wise  way,  to  comfort  him  in  his 
varying  moods.  Sometimes  he  would  sit  and  shudder. 
Then  he  would  walk  about  the  room  raving  of  his 
horror.  Once  he  seized  the  manuscript  of  his  Vittoria 
poems  which  he  had  been  preparing  for  the  press  in 
book  form,  and  which  contained  many  unpublished 

172 


The  Usurper 

lyrics,  and  threw  it  into  the  fire.  Jasper  leaped 
forward,  rescued  it,  stamping  out  the  springing  flame  on 
the  hearth-rug,  and  put  it  into  the  pocket  of  his  frock- 
coat.  The  author  angrily  demanded  its  return.  Jasper 
coolly  refused. 

"I  am  not  going  to  let  you  be  a  silly  fool,  sonny. 
The  script  is  safe  with  me.  It's  the  finest  work  you've 
done.  Those  lyrics  could  n't  have  been  written  by 
another  living  creature." 

u  That 's  the  unspeakable  torment  of  it,"  cried  Bunny. 
"  They  are  the  children  of  a  damned  foul  harlotry.  I 
want  them  blotted  out  of  the  memory  of  man.  They 
are  poisonous,  leprous,  horrible  ! " 

u  They  are  the  work  of  a  great  poet  who  is  now  going 
into  hysterics,"  said  Jasper.  Whereat  Bunny  grew  some- 
what calmer. 

Later,  after  a  spell  of  brooding  before  the  fire,  he  bent 
his  head  and  broke  into  a  sob. 

"She  has  killed  it  all  forever.  I  shall  never  write  a 
line  of  verse  again.  Two  damned  faces  will  be  between 
me  and  my  art  all  my  life  long.  They  will  gibe  and 
gibber  at  me.  She  has  struck  death  into  my  soul. 
Never  another  poetical  thought  will  ever  come  out  of 
me." 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  Jasper  gently,  looking  at  him 
with  his  wistful  eyes  under  their  rugged  overhanging 
brows,  "  time  has  kindlier  uses  for  his  scythe  than 
cutting  short  human  lives.  His  chief  use  of  it  is  to  cut 
off  the  tops  of  human  memories." 

Bunny  looked  up  at  him.  "  Saul  among  the  proph- 
173 


The  Usurper 

ets!  Are  you  turning  poet  too, old  chap?  It's  a  bad 
trade.  It's  a  pseudo-science,  —  the  science  of  false 
analogy.  Stick  to  being  good  and  kind  as  you  are. 
God  bless  you.  I  've  brought  it  all  on  myself.  A  man 
ought  to  live  outside  himself.  I've  been  shutting  up 
myself  inside  my  heart  —  yet,  my  God  —  I  thought 
she  was  a  big  creature.  Heaven  knows  what  she  is. 
There  are  such  things  as  moral  monstrosities.  Women 
of  genius  and  beauty  have  thrown  themselves  into  the 
arms  of  swine  in  human  form  before  now  —  O  God ! 
O  God  !  "  he  cried,  losing  control  again.  "  I  shall  go 
mad." 

Jasper  soothed  the  paroxysm.  There  was  the  man's 
tenderness  in  him,  which  is  sometimes  greater  than 
a  woman's.  And  Jasper  knew  what  it  was  to  stretch 
out  hands  to  the  unknown  God  in  agony  of  soul  to  ask 
for  guidance.  He  knew  that  this  same  agony  had  to  be 
borne  by  a  man's  own  solitary,  remote,  unaided  self. 
He  knew  that  nothing  human  or  transcendental  could 
abate  one  jot  thereof.  And  he  knew  that  for  all  this 
stern  unvicariousness  of  pain  the  human  heart  in  its 
eternal  futility  craves  knowledge  of  its  pain  from  another. 
To  borrow  a  musical  term,  it  is  only  the  overtones  of 
suffering  that  can  be  dispelled  by  sympathy;  yet  these 
overtones  cry  aloud,  and  a  trained  ear  like  Jasper's  heeds 
them. 

The  night  wore  on.  Bunny  grew  more  rational, 
spoke  out  his  love  story  from  first  to  last.  Yet  here 
and  there  he  gave  way  to  the  shiver  of  horrible  disgust 
of  flesh  and  soul.  It  was  in  one  aspect  a  pathetic 

174 


The  Usurper 

comedy,  in  another  a  tragedy  of  unmitigated  bathos. 
A  splendid  and  conquering  Emperor,  suddenly,  in  the 
presence  of  his  court  and  his  armies,  stripped  by  a  freak- 
ish Olympus  to  mother  nakedness  and  ludicrously  be- 
painted  and  befeathered,  could  not  present  to  the  world 
a  more  piteous  spectacle.  There  are  spots  on  the  un- 
explored frontier  between  tears  and  laughter  that  are 
burning  with  the  flames  of  all  the  hells. 

"And  the  remedy,  Bunny  —  do  you  know  what  it 
is  ?  "  said  Jasper. 

"Action  —  battle,  murder  —  best  of  all,  sudden  death. 
'  How  can  a  man  die  better,'  et  cetera,  et  cetera  ?  I  '11 
go  out  and  fight." 

"  You  '11  stay  at  home  and  work,  my  dear  fellow.  Life 
demands  that  you  give  of  your  best  to  it,  not  your 
worst." 

"There  are  places  'where  the  best  is  like  the  worst,' " 
quoted  the  young  man. 

"  They  are  undesirable  spots  to  reside  in,  sonny. 
Believe  me.  I  've  been  there.  You  have  just  got  to 
work  here  like  a  man.  I  have  as  much  for  you  as  you 
can  worry  through.  I  need  your  help.  That 's  why  I 
came  in  to-night.  I  'm  starting  a  Sunday  newspaper  for 
my  own  purposes,  and  I  want  you  to  be  literary  editor 
and  help  me  work  the  thing  out." 

Bunny  nodded  his  head  unenthusiastically.  "  I  '11 
think  about  it.  I  can't  now.  Don't  consider  me  un- 
grateful. I  shall  never  forget  how  good  you  've  been 
to  me  to-night.  But  I  am  sick  to  my  soul.  It  *s  physi- 
cal —  the  nausea.  But  I  must  n't  go  on  any  more.  I 

*75 


The  Usurper 

really  believe  you  have  saved  my  life.  I  would  have 
probably  sat  here  all  night  in  my  wet  things  and  caught 
my  death  of  cold.  And  you  have  kept  me  more  or  less 
sane.  I  shall  be  all  right  now." 

Seeing  him  in  this  more  normal  frame  of  mind, 
Jasper  extorted  a  promise  that  he  would  go  to  bed  at 
once,  and  left  him.  It  was  nearly  four  o'clock. 
Jasper  went  to  sleep  somewhat  tired. 

The  next  day  affairs  kept  him  busy  till  the  afternoon. 
He  had  to  address  his  constituents  at  North  Ham  in  the 
evening  and  explain  his  attitude  with  regard  to  the  war. 
A  stormy  meeting  was  anticipated.  Wickens,  the  tru- 
culent Mayor,  against  whom  Sir  Samuel  Dykes  had 
warned  him,  and  over  whom  he  had  hitherto  quietly  tri- 
umphed, was  blustering  loudly  against  the  government 
and  asking  where  the  working  man  came  in.  The  pro- 
letariat, learning  from  him  that  bread  was  to  be  a  shilling 
a  loaf  and  coal  five  pounds  a  ton,  and  that  the  exemptions 
on  Income  Tax  were  to  be  abolished,  were  inclined  to  side 
with  him.  Jasper's  speech  had  therefore  to  be  carefully 
prepared.  Not  a  moment  was  free  till  four  o'clock. 
Then,  anxious  about  Bunny,  he  went  round  to  Great 
Coram  Street. 

The  landlady  met  him  at  the  door  with  the  informa- 
tion that  Mr.  Tredgold  had  given  up  his  rooms  and  had 
gone  away.  He  had  taken  with  him  one  Gladstone  bag. 
He  had  left  at  noon ;  had  said  that  a  friend  of  his,  Mr. 
Vellacot,  would  probably  look  after  the  rest  of  his  be- 
longings. If  not,  they  could  be  disposed  of  as  the  land- 
lady chose. 

176 


The  Usurper 

"  He  left  no  address  ?  "  asked  Jasper. 

"  No,  sir.  He  seemed  to  be  in  some  trouble.  He 
had  not  slept  in  his  bed  all  night,  and  ate  scarcely  any 
breakfast  this  morning." 

u  I  am  Mr.  Vellacot,"  said  Jasper.  "  I  was  here  with 
him  last  night.  Keep  the  things  for  a  day  or  two,  when 
I  will  come  again." 

He  went  home  profoundly  troubled.  It  was  only 
amid  the  inevitable  excitement  of  a  fighting  speech  at 
North  Ham  that  he  was  able  to  forget  his  preoccupation. 
At  night  when  he  returned  he  found  a  letter  from  Bunny. 
It  bore  no  heading. 

"I  have  thought  it  all  out,"  he  wrote.  "I  never  was  so 
acutely  sane  in  my  life.  My  reason  for  existence  here  is  gone. 
I  can  no  more  write  verse  in  the  future  than  a  painter  who  has 
gone  blind  can  paint.  If  I  accepted  your  generous  offer,  I  should 
have  the  pain  of  ever  holding  the  brush  with  darkened  eyes. 
But  I  can  ride,  shoot  straight,  and  tell  the  truth.  And  I  have 
a  passionate  faith  in  my  country.  She  can  never  betray  a  man. 
I  am  giving  her  the  best  that  remains  of  me.  I  am  enlisting  as 
a  Tommy  in  a  regiment  which  I  happen  to  know  is  off  in  a 
week's  time  to  the  front.  The  colonel  was  a  friend  of  my 
father  who  knew  half  the  army,  and  he  will  see  that  I  am  not  left 
behind  among  the  recruits.  Don't  worry  about  me.  Physi- 
cally you  know  I  'm  as  hard  as  nails.  As  for  the  life  in  the 
ranks,  I  know  what  I  am  going  to,  and  I  am  quite  content. 
I've  never  yet  met  the  man  I  could  n't  get  on  with.  I  am 
going  out  to  grapple  with  the  realities  of  life  instead  of  the 
shadows. 

"  I  enclose  what  I  have  a  vague  idea  is  called  a  Power  of 
Attorney.  If  it's  childish,  please  don't  laugh  at  it.  I  am  not 

12  I 


The  Usurper 

a  man  of  business.  Deal  with  my  affairs  as  you  will.  Publish 
any  poems  or  things  you  like.  Open  any  letters  you  please ; 
but  for  the  love  of  God  don't  forward  any  to  me,  — that  is  to 
say,  if  you  ever  have  an  address  whereby  letters  may  find  me. 
I  should  not  dream  of  troubling  a  man  with  a  myriad  calls  upon 
his  time  and  thought  like  you,  were  it  not  for  the  affection  I  bear 
you,  which  I  feel  somehow  you  have  for  me. 

"  Give  our  dear  lady,  Alicia,  my  love.  I  have  tried  to 
write  to  her,  but  I  can't.  Tell  her  whatever  you  think  best, 
the  whole  story  if  you  like.  Anything  but  let  the  sweetest 
woman  on  earth  feel  that  I  am  unthoughtful  of  her. 

"We  humans  are  funny  people.  If  I  asked  you  now  for 
twenty  thousand  pounds,  you  would  say  '  Certainly '  and  would 
give  me  a  cheque  on  the  spot.  And  yet  your  good,  kind  hand 
on  my  shoulder  last  night  was  a  gift  more  precious  than  if  you 
had  made  over  to  me  the  fabulous  millions  you  possess.  God 
bless  you. 

"  Yours  ever, 

"  BONAMY  TREDGOLD." 

Jasper  sat  for  a  long  time  before  the  dying  library  fire 
smoking  his  homely  briar-root  pipe.  He  remembered  a 
hastily  scribbled  note  which  he  had  received  from  Bunny 
a  few  days  before.  It  had  been  a  thing  alive,  quick  with 
fun,  pulsating  with  the  extravagance  of  youth.  He  com- 
pared it  with  this  commonplace,  self-conscious  letter,  and 
heartily  cursed  the  feminine  perverter  of  Bunny's  epis- 
tolary style.  He  also  cursed  himself  freely  for  not  hav- 
ing brought  him  bodily  back  to  Gower  Street  the  night 
before  and  mounted  guard  over  him  till  such  time  as  he 
could  have  been  brought  to  his  senses.  The  whole  affair 
was  an  unrelieved  disaster. 


The  Usurper 

Then  he  contemplated  with  some  dismay  his  explana- 
tory interview  with  Lady  Alicia.  And  as  he  knocked 
the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe,  he  thought  of  Joseph's  brethren 
fearing  to  face  Jacob  with  the  account  of  the  missing 
Benjamin. 


179 


CHAPTER    XIV 

"  "I  T  7HAT  is  this  report  of  Bunny  having  enlisted  and 
*  V     gone  to  the  front  ?  "  cried  Elinor  Currey  from 
the  threshold  of  Lady  Alicia's  drawing-room. 

"  It  is  true,"  said  Lady  Alicia,  sadly. 

"  I  'm  afraid  it 's  a  fact,"  said  Jasper,  rising,  teacup 
in  hand. 

"  Oh !  "  said  Elinor  Currey.  Then  in  an  absent 
manner  she  kissed  Alicia,  shook  hands  with  Jasper  and 
sat  down. 

u  I  've  just  heard  of  it  from  Paulina  Edory,  so  I  came 
on  here  at  once  to  get  fuller  information.  Tell  me  the 
whole  preposterous  story." 

"  There  is  scarcely  any  to  tell,"  replied  Jasper. 

"  What  in  the  world  did  he  go  for  ? " 

"  To  fight  for  his  country,"  answered  Alicia. 

u  It 's  madness,  it 's  immoral,"  said  Miss  Currey, 
sharply.  "  He  has  no  business  out  there.  Why  did 
you  let  him  go  ?  You  should  have  chained  him  up  to 
the  wall.  Suppose  anything  should  happen  to  him  ?  " 

u  Don't  talk  of  such  a  thing,  Elinor,"  said  Lady 
Alicia.  "  Nothing  must  happen  to  him." 

"  But  why  did  n't  you  keep  him  at  home,  Mr. 
Vellacot?" 

"  He  took  French  leave  of  us  —  without  drum  or 
trumpet.  He  had  an  impulse  of  patriotism  and  it 's  his 

180 


The  Usurper 

way  to  obey  his  impulses.     I  suppose  a  poet  is  different 
from  us  sober  folk,"  he  added  reflectively. 

"  That  is  why  I  say  it  is  immoral,"  cried  Elinor, 
"just  because  he/V  a  poet.  A  great  poet  has  more  sacred 
duties  to  his  country  than  marching  and  countermarch- 
ing in  the  ranks  of  an  infantry  regiment.  We  could  get  a 
million  Tommy  Atkinses  quite  as  good  as  he,  but  there 
is  only  one  Bonamy  Tredgold.  No,  Alicia,  I  won't 
have  any  tea,  thank  you.  I  am  far  too  upset.  Besides, 
I  've  had  some.  I  was  hoping  it  was  a  silly  rumour." 

"  I  think  it  is  very  noble  and  brave  of  him,"  said 
Alicia,  looking  at  her  rings.  "  A  man  can't  properly  be 
a  man  who  has  not  something  of  the  fighter  in  him. 
And  Bunny  inherits  soldier  traditions  from  his  family. 
Ancestors  of  his  fell  at  Naseby  and  Blenheim  and  Fon- 
tenoy  and  Vimiera.  His  grandfather  was  a  V.  C.  It 
was  in  his  blood,  I  suppose.  He  was  bound  to  go." 

Elinor  Currey  looked  at  the  placid  lady,  very  much 
astonished. 

"  1  thought  you  regarded  war  with  such  horror,  Alicia ! 
You  '11  be  saying  next  that  you  buckled  on  his  armour 
and  put  the  sword  in  his  hand  like  a  Spartan  mother  and 
sent  him  forth.  Do  you  believe  in  a  man  of  genius 
wantonly  making  himself  food  for  powder  in  this  way, 
Mr.  Vellacot  ? " 

She  turned  from  one  to  the  other  in  desperation. 

"  I  believe  in  a  man  going  straight  at  what  he  con-  . 
siders  to  be  his    duty,"  said    Jasper.     "  I   would   give 
much    to   have   him    back  again,  but    I   agree  entirely 
with  Lady  Alicia." 

181 


The  Usurper 

"  You  agree  with  Alicia  ?  " 

" 1  am  bound  to,"  replied  Jasper. 

"  Then  you  are  most  incomprehensible  people.  To 
hear  you  talk  one  would  suppose  you  had  conspired  to 
send  him  away.  I  can't  understand  anything  about  it. 
What  regiment  is  he  in  ?  " 

u  We  don't  know,  and  have  no  means  of  knowing," 
replied  Jasper. 

"  Have  you  no  address  that  will  find  him  ?  " 

"  None  whatever." 

"Then  you  don't  know  any  more  than  Paulina  Edory. 
I  might  have  saved  a  double  cab-fare.  I  think  you  two  are 
the  most  exasperating  people  I  have  ever  come  across  !  " 

u  Don't  be  too  hard  upon  us,  Miss  Currey,"  said 
Jasper.  "  We  are  both  very  anxious  about  Bunny." 

u  If  you  were  n't,  I  should  n't  have  the  right  to  hector 
you  like  this,"  said  the  young  woman,  more  graciously. 
lc  All  his  friends  must  be  anxious.  But  what  I  can't  make 
out  is  this  —  why  did  he  enlist  as  a  private  ?  Why 
did  n't  he  go  like  a  gentleman  ?  " 

"  My  dear,"  said  Lady  Alicia,  "  of  one  thing  you  may 
be  quite  sure.  Bunny  could  n't  go  anywhere  except  like 
a  gentleman." 

u  Good-bye,  dear,"  said  Miss  Currey ;  "  when  are  you 
coming  to  see  me  ?  Then  we  can  have  it  out  together. 
Now  you  are  two  to  one,  which  is  n't  fair." 

Jasper  opened  the  door  for  her,  and  turning,  met 
Alicia's  eyes. 

"  I  'm  glad  to  hear  you  talk  like  that  of  Bunny,"  said 
he. 

182 


The  Usurper 

u  One  must  say  something  to  people,  you  know. 
There  will  be  many  asking  questions,  like  Elinor." 

"  Quite  so.  But  I  am  glad  you  spoke  up  for  the  man 
in  Bunny.  After  all,  perhaps  he  may  come  back  the 
bigger  poet  for  his  experience.  And  as  to  the  love 
affair,  well,  there  is  nothing  like  the  sound  of  bullets  to 
put  the  stiffening  into  a  fellow  —  unless  the  bullets 
stiffen  him  in  a  different  way  — which  God  forbid  !  " 

"  Oh,  don't  !  "  exclaimed  Alicia,  with  a  shiver. 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Jasper.  "  We  must  face 
possibilities.  We  can't  evade  eternal  laws.  War  is  a 
discipline  of  life  for  those  who  stay  at  home  as  well  as 
for  those  who  fight." 

"  Oh,  why  should  we  need  all  this  discipline  ?  "  she 
sighed. 

"The  only  argument  I  can  find  to  hand,"  replied 
Jasper,  "is  in  the  early  chapters  of  the  Book  of 
Genesis." 

This  was  about  a  month  after  Bunny's  disappearance. 
When  Jasper  had  come  to  her  with  the  news,  she  had 
consented  to  hear  only  as  much  of  the  story  as  was 
necessary  to  explain  the  letter  which  he  put  into  her 
hands.  She  begged  him  to  mention  no  names,  to  spare 
her  unhappy  details.  It  was  enough  to  know  that  his 
flight  was  due  to  a  disastrous  love  affair.  After  she 
had  read  the  letter  she  had  looked  at  the  fire,  a  little 
frown  wrinkling  her  forehead.  Then  she  had  turned 
to  him. 

"  A  man  may  do  worse  than  fight  for  his  country," 
she  had  said. 

183 


The  Usurper 

During  the  short  interview  she  had  maintained  a  sad 
but  dignified  demeanour,  reproaching  Jasper  in  no  way 
for  neglect.  But  when  he  had  gone  she  sat  for  a  long 
time  quite  still,  feeling  very  much  dismayed,  absurdly 
sore.  If  she  had  been  jealous  of  the  feminine  inspirer 
of  the  love  poems  and  the  play,  she  now  hated  most 
bitterly  the  woman  who  had  driven  Bunny  to  this  mad- 
ness. And  she  had  looked  blankly  upon  an  environment 
in  which  there  was  no  Bunny. 

Although  she  had  agreed  with  Jasper  to  bury  this 
lamentable  love  affair  fathoms  deep  and  to  strike  the 
patriotic  note  when  questioned  by  anxious  friends,  in  her 
heart  she  thoroughly  agreed  with  Elinor  Currey.  She 
did  not  feel  at  all  thrilled  by  the  idea  of  Bunny  fighting 
heroically  for  his  country,  being  irritatingly  aware  that 
love  for  a  mysterious  young  woman  (concerning  whose 
personality  she  was  too  proud  to  enquire),  and  not  patriot- 
ism, was  the  cause  of  Bunny's  soldiering.  But  loyalty 
both  to  herself  and  to  him  maintained  her  unwaveringly 
in  the  attitude  she  had  adopted,  and  she  lied  with  con- 
siderable stoutness.  Indeed  the  lie  became  a  sweet  self- 
sacrifice  for  Bunny's  sake,  and  in  course  of  time  she  grew 
to  regard  herself  as  the  Spartan  mother  of  whom  Elinor 
Currey  had  spoken. 

And  so  for  many  months  nothing  more  was  heard  of 
Bunny.  What  regiment  he  had  joined  Jasper  failed  to 
discover.  Like  a  bucketful  of  water  emptied  into  a  river, 
he  had  disappeared  into  the  amorphous  brown  stream  of 
men  that  was  pouring  out  of  England.  His  not  very 
involved  affairs  he  had  left  in  perfect  order.  His  bills 

184 


The  Usurper 

had  been  paid.  He  had  made  arrangements  for  the  dis- 
posal or  transference  of  the  work  he  had  in  hand.  Jasper 
found  his  trusteeship  a  very  light  matter. 

Of  Vittoria  Jasper  had  heard  only  once.  The  news 
came  through  Bunny's  landlady  while  Cudby  was  super- 
intending the  removal  of  the  young  poet's  slender  pos- 
sessions from  Great  Coram  Street.  A  few  days  after 
Bunny's  flight  a  handsome  dark-eyed  girl  had  called 
and  enquired  for  Mr.  Tredgold.  The  landlady,  who 
brought  the  love  of  imparting  information  into  harmony 
with  an  aggressively  virtuous  mind,  had  told  the  young 
woman  curtly  that  Mr.  Tredgold  had  gone  for  a  soldier 
and  had  left  no  address.  Whereupon  the  girl  had  turned 
very  white  and  had  gone  away  without  a  word.  This, 
Jasper  sincerely  hoped,  was  the  end  of  Vittoria. 

To  a  woman  in  Lady  Alicia's  social  position  and  with 
Lady  Alicia's  temperament  the  times  brought  much  oc- 
cupation. While  the  strong  hands  of  men  wage  war 
abroad,  the  soft  hands  of  women  at  home  work  to  alle- 
viate their  hardships.  At  least  so  Alicia  was  told  at 
more  than  one  inaugural  meeting  of  helpers.  There 
were  socks  and  caps  to  be  knitted,  tobacco  and  pipes  to 
be  collected,  wives  and  families  to  be  looked  after, 
bazaars  and  concerts  to  be  carried  through  to  a  finan- 
cially successful  end.  Alicia  found  herself  on  half  a 
dozen  committees  and  president  of  two  or  three  soci- 
eties ;  whereupon  she  gave  herself  graceful  airs  of  a 
woman  of  some  importance.  In  spite  of  the  thought  of 
Bunny  marching  footsore  under  the  blistering  sun  all 
day  and  sleeping  in  the  wet  all  night  under  a  hail  of  the 

185 


The  Usurper 

enemy's  bullets,  Alicia  was  not  entirely  unhappy.  She 
delighted  in  taking  the  lead  in  so  many  excellent 
works. 

Her  correspondence  was  voluminous.  In  her  private 
morning-room  converted  into  an  "  office,"  she  conducted 
interviews  with  all  sorts  of  people  in  a  most  business-like 
way.  After  learning  from  Cudby  how  an  office  should 
be  organized,  she  engaged  a  typist  and  dictated  letters. 
Most  of  these  she  had  to  reduce  afterward  to  grammar 
and  coherence  and  have  them  re-typed,  but  that  did  n't 
matter.  Elinor  Currey  said  once  to  Jasper  that  she  was 
the  sweetest  deputy  providence  that  ever  supplied  a 
starving  soldier  with  silk  pyjamas.  But  Jasper  smiled 
indulgently,  not  displeased  at  Miss  Currey  being  jealous 
of  his  lady's  excellencies. 

Naturally  he  was  drawn  into  many  of  Alicia's  schemes, 
to  which  he  contributed  with  his  usual  lavishness.  In- 
deed one  cheque  she  returned,  saying  that  it  was  so  large 
that  it  would  wreck  her  society  altogether.  It  took  him 
some  time  to  appreciate  the  situation,  and  then  only 
after  Cudby  had  explained.  The  devotion  of  his  patron 
gave  the  little  man  some  pathetic  amusement,  but  he 
was  annoyed  when  Jasper  sat  up  of  nights  to  finish  off 
the  arrears  of  work  that  he  had  neglected  in  order  to  give 
Lady  Alicia  consultations  or  to  attend  her  committee 
meetings.  There  was  one  scheme,  however,  conceived 
and  carried  out  by  Jasper,  in  which  she  was  content  to 
act  as  adviser  and  lieutenant.  And  this,  on  account  of 
her  intimate  association  with  it,  grew  to  be  one  of  his 
dearest  undertakings.  It  was  the  establishment  of  con- 

1 86 


The  Usurper 

valescent  homes  for  the  wounded  in  various  parts  of  the 
country.  Sites  were  selected  ;  temporary  buildings  con- 
structed; country-houses,  rows  of  sea-side  cottages 
bought  or  leased  and  converted  into  homes.  All  were 
furnished,  staffed,  fitted  with  every  convenience  they 
could  devise.  Together  they  pored  over  plans  and  dis- 
cussed contracts  and  leases  and  nurses  and  the  quality 
of  pillow-cases.  One  morning  she  was  announced  in 
Gower  Street. 

"  No  place  is  sacred,"  said  Cudby. 

"  Henceforth  this  will  be,  Tommy,"  replied  Jasper, 
jumping  to  his  feet  in  high  good-humour  and  colouring 
like  a  boy. 

He  rushed  into  the  little  room  beyond,  where  she 
awaited  him.  This  was  the  first  time  she  had  entered 
his  house.  To  see  her  standing  regally  at  ease  by  the 
fire,  warming  one  small  foot  on  the  fender,  shot  a  thrill 
of  pleasure  through  him.  His  deprecation  of  her  pretty 
apologies  for  disturbing  him  was  eagerly  sincere.  She 
explained  her  visit.  On  her  way  from  Mudie's  it  had 
occurred  to  her  that  they  had  forgotten  the  literary  needs 
of  the  convalescent  warriors.  She  had  thought  he 
would  n't  mind  her  running  in  and  telling  him.  He 
wished  something  fresh  would  occur  to  her  in  like 
manner  every  morning.  She  smiled. 

"  They  ought  to  have  books." 

"They  shall." 

He  sat  by  the  table  and  scribbled  on  a  piece  of  paper : 
u  Ten  homes,  bookcases  with  100  light  books  in  each. 
Wait  for  Lady  A.  H.'s  list." 

187 


The  Usurper 

"  If  you  will  submit  a  list  to  me,  the  order  shall  go 
out  at  once." 

She  promised.  The  business  was  over.  She  admired 
the  masculine  despatch. 

"  I  've  been  thinking  of  another  thing,"  she  said. 
"  The  nurses  ought  to  have  a  pretty  uniform." 

u  Bless  me,"  said  Jasper,  "  so  they  ought !  What 
should  I  do  without  you  ?  " 

He  wrote  on  the  paper,  "  Pretty  uniform  for  nurses," 
whereat  Alicia,  peeping  over  his  shoulder,  laughed.  He 
looked  up  into  her  face. 

"  Who  is  to  design  it  ?  "  she  asked.     "  Mr.  Cudby  ?" 

She  felt  immensely  superior.  He  saw  an  offer  in  her 
eyes  and  gaily  accepted  it.  Her  taste  was  perfect.  He 
added  to  the  paper  :  "  Wait  for  Lady  A.  H.'s  design." 

u  You  must  not  make  it  too  fascinating,  for  the  sake 
of  the  convalescents'  hearts,"  said  he. 

u  I  suppose  they  are  susceptible  in  their  weak  con- 
dition." 

"  Weak  or  strong,  it  does  n't  seem  to  matter  much," 
said  he.  "  It 's  natural  for  a  man  to  fall  in  love." 

"  Friendship  is  more  satisfactory.  Don't  you  think 
so  ?  " 

"  I  have  only  had  friendship  given  to  me,  so  I  can't 
judge.  However,"  he  added,  quickly  turning  as  usual 
the  talk  from  dangerous  channels,  "it  might  be  more 
satisfactory  for  the  nurses." 

He  saw  her  into  her  brougham,  delighted  by  her  visit. 
She  was  to  come  again,  at  any  time,  whenever  she 
wanted  to  consult  him.  They  were  partners  now  in  a 

1 88 


The  Usurper 

business  concern,  and  in  business,  letters  often  meant 
delay.  There  was  nothing  like  an  interview.  He  went 
indoors  humming  an  air,  and  returned  to  his  work. 

The  weeks  passed.  The  fitting  up  of  the  homes  pro- 
gressed. He  saw  Alicia  frequently,  sometimes  in  Gower 
Street,  sometimes  in  Onslow  Gardens.  She  was  full  of 
shrewd  sense  and  fertile  in  suggestion.  To  several  of 
his  other  projects  that  were  being  carried  out  simulta- 
neously, she  added  elements  of  grace  which  unaided  he 
would  never  have  thought  of.  In  spite  of  the  depression 
of  the  war,  the  anxious  effort  to  keep  a  turbulent  con- 
stituency true  to  its  ideals,  and  the  continuous  and  grim 
menace  of  the  man  Burke,  this  was  the  happiest  time 
he  had  known  in  his  life.  He  had  found  leisure  to 
negotiate  with  a  publisher  for  the  publication  of  Bunny's 
Carmina  Amor'is  and  had  exacted  liberal  terms.  He 
corrected  the  proofs  himself,  meeting  with  many  diffi- 
culties that  could  be  solved  only  by  consultation  with 
Cudby  and  Alicia.  He  devoted  terrific  earnestness  to 
the  unaccustomed  task,  and  Cudby  would  often  smile 
when  he  saw  him  wrinkling  his  rugged  forehead  as  he 
wrestled  with  the  problem  of  the  right  placing  of  a 
comma. 

"  I  am  as  fit  to  do  this  as  I  am  to  make  baby-linen," 
he  said  once. 

"  You  would  make  excellent  little  petticoats  if  you 
really  set  your  mind  to  it,"  replied  Cudby,  "and  so 
you  are  going  to  turn  out  an  ideal  editor." 

And  Cudby  was  right,  for  the  man's  simple  earnest- 
ness could  accomplish  many  things. 

189 


The  Usurper 

In  spite  of  Burke's  drunkenness  and  lowering  looks 
he  was  happy.     Strangely  enough,  the  terrible  burden  of 
his  wealth  seemed  to  have  grown  lighter.     With  a  shrug 
of  his  shoulders  it  had  slipped  from  them.     That  is  to 
say,  the  curse  of  Midas  ceased  to  oppress  him.     The 
responsibilities  of  his  kingdom  weighed  heavy  as  before. 
But  his  soul  was  strong  to  bear  them,  and  his  brain  clear 
to   execute,  and  his  heart,  if  not  drinking  in   the  full 
wine  of  joy,  was  at  least  quenching  its  parchedness  with 
the  waters  of  great  comfort.     The  sweet  starlike  woman 
was  his  companion,  sharing  all  that  was  noble  in  his  life, 
tenderly  feminine  in  her  solicitude  as  to  little  things.   One 
evening  he  had   hurried  from  the  House  dinnerless  to 
keep  an  appointment  with  her,  and  she  had  discovered 
his  famished  condition  and  had  set  food  before  him  with 
her  own  hands  and  had  waited  on  him  with  charming 
condescension.     She  would  tell  him  of  her  little  worries, 
the  treacheries  of  the  dressmaker,  or  the  undignified  pie- 
ties of  her  parents.     Then  they  talked  of  Bunny  (from 
whom  not  a  line),  and  devised  plans  for  his  home-com- 
ing, when  the  famous  newspaper  should  be  started.     But 
no  more  reference  was  made  to  the  perturbing  influence 
that  had  driven  Bunny  abroad.     In  the  simplicity  of  his 
heart  Jasper  imagined  that  she  had  forgotten  or  at  least 
forgiven  the  young  poet's  lapse  into  the  romantic.     He 
was  also  convinced  that  Bunny  would  return  cured  and 
heart-whole.     All  was  beginning  to  go  quite  for  the  best 
in  this  best  of  all  possible  worlds. 

Yet  he  was  having  trouble  with  Burke.     The  man 
neglected  his  duties  and  spoke  in  a  surly  way  when  rep- 

190 


The  Usurper 

rimanded.  The  discipline  of  the  office  was  threatened. 
Jasper  ordained  that  he  should  henceforth  work  in  his 
own  sitting-room  and  appointed  Cudby  his  sole  task- 
master. This  transference,  as  it  appeared  later,  was  one 
more  grudge  added  to  those  which  he  was  gradually 
amassing  against  Jasper.  One  morning  he  entered 
Jasper's  private  room  unceremoniously.  The  latter 
looked  up  from  his  papers  for  a  moment,  then  finished 
the  sentence  he  was  writing  and  leaned  back  in  his  chair. 
His  eyes  grew  hard  beneath  his  overhanging  brows. 

"  Why  did  n't  you  knock  at  my  door  ?  " 

"  I  did  n't  know  it  was  necessary,"    replied    Burke, 
with  a  shade  of  insolence. 

"  It  is  but  common  manners,"  said  Jasper.     "  Kindly 
go  out,  knock  at  my  door,  and  come  in  again." 

u  What  are  you  playing  at  ?  "  asked  Burke,  who  was 
not  quite  sober. 

"  The  master,"  replied  Jasper,  quietly ;  and  he  pointed 
to  the  door. 

"Well,  I   apologise.     There's   no  use   quarrelling," 
said  Burke,  not  making  a  movement. 

Jasper's  hand  came  down  with  a  thump  on  the  table. 

"  By   God,  you   shall   do   as  you  are  ordered  ! "   he 
cried. 

Burke  shrugged  his  shoulders  sulkily,  and  went  through 
the  prescribed  performance. 

"  Now  what  do  you  want  ?  "  asked  Jasper,  when  the 
other  re-entered  the  room. 

"  I  'd  rather  tell  you  some  other  time.     I  've  offended 
you,  Mr.  Vellacot.     I  'm  very  sorry." 

191 


The  Usurper 

His  face  was  pallid  and  unhealthy,  his  eyes  slightly 
bloodshot,  and  in  spite  of  scrupulously  correct  attire  and 
the  swaggering  cavalry  moustache,  he  still  looked  a  mean 
figure  of  a  man. 

"  I  'm  not  offended,"  said  Jasper,  ironically.  u  I  only 
exacted  obedience.  What  can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

u  I  came  to  ask  you  for  a  hundred  pounds,"  said 
Burke,  with  one  of  his  swift  glances. 

"  Is  n't  your  salary  sufficient  ?  " 

"  A  man  can't  live  like  a  gentleman  upon  it." 

"  What  claim  have  you  to  live  like  a  gentleman  ?  " 

"  You  ought  to  know." 

Jasper  took  the  thrust  without  a  quiver.  He  had 
many  reasons  by  now  for  assurance  that  the  man  was 
playing  the  game  of  bluff. 

"  I  know  of  none,"  said  he. 

"Well,  it's  no  use  arguing  the  point.  The  fact 
remains.  I  thought  you  would  let  me  have  a  hundred. 
It  would  make  no  difference  to  you  and  would  clear  me 
out  of  a  hole.  Billings  has  been  dunning  me  like  the 
deuce." 

«  Who  is  Billings  ?  " 

"  Why,  the  bookmaker,  of  course,"  replied  Burke. 

"  There  is  no  'of  course, '  "  said  Jasper.  "  I  am  not 
acquainted  with  bookmakers." 

There  was  a  pause.  Jasper  looked  straight  at  Burke, 
who,  as  usual,  showed  signs  of  discomfort  under  his 
gaze. 

"  It  is  only  a  hundred,"  he  muttered  at  last. 

Jasper  did  not  reply.  Once  more  the  struggle  within 
192 


The  Usurper 

him  was  renewed.  Dare  he  refuse  this  man  any  part 
of  that  which  was  legally  his  own  ?  On  the  other 
hand,  was  it  right  for  him  to  submit  to  blackmail  and 
thus  give  the  other  an  incalculable  power  over  him  ? 
For  good  or  evil  he  decided.  His  eyes  had  not  left 
Burke' s  face. 

"  I  am  wondering,"  said  he,  "  how  you  can  have  the 
impudence  to  come  to  me  to  pay  your  racing  debts.  I 
shall  not  give  you  a  penny." 

Burke  grew  a  shade  paler.  This  time  he  was  genuine. 
"  For  God's  sake,  Mr.  Vellacot,  help  me  this  once," 
he  said.  cc  I  am  in  a  tight  corner.  I  've  got  paper 
out  which  I  can't  redeem." 

"  I  have  said  my  say,"  replied  Jasper.  "  I  am  not 
a  man  of  two  words.  That  will  do." 

He  resumed  his  writing,  and  Burke  went  crestfallen 
out  of  the  room.  But  the  moral  side  of  the  question 
teased  Jasper  exceedingly.  He  laid  down  his  pen, 
rested  his  head  in  his  hands,  and  remained  for  some 
minutes  in  deep  thought.  Then  he  rang  for  Cudby. 

"  Keep  an  eye  on  Burke,  Tom,"  he  said.  u  Get 
into  conversation  with  him.  He  '11  tell  you  he  wants 
a  hundred  pounds  which  I  have  refused  him.  Offer  to 
lend  it  him  yourself,  in  a  friendly  way,  on  his  I.  O.  U. 
You  need  n't  bother  about  getting  it  back  and  I  will 
make  it  all  right  with  you." 

Cudby  nodded  promise  of  obedience. 

"  Trying  it  on  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Apparently." 

"  If  you  had  started  him  on  thirty  bob  a  week  as  a 

13  I93 


The  Usurper 

kind  of  hall  porter  at  the  start,  it  would  have  been 
better.  He  'd  have  been  grateful.  Now  he  scents 
mystery  —  thinks  his  precious  skin  is  in  some  way 
valuable  to  you  —  and  so  is  bumptious.  But,  as  for  his 
bumptiousness,  '  'T  was  but  a  bolt  of  nothing  shot  at 
nothing,'  as  Imogen  observes.  You  must  n't  be  *  frighted 
by  false  fire,'  my  dear  friend." 

"  I  'm  frighted  by  nothing  but  my  conscience,  Tom," 
replied  Jasper,  wistfully. 

As  Jasper  had  foreseen,  Burke,  being  at  his  wits'  ends 
for  money,  applied  to  Cudby  for  a  loan.  Cudby  put 
his  head  on  one  side  and  looked  at  him  through  his 
gold-rimmed  glass.  He  had  a  disconcerting  way  of 
looking  at  Burke. 

"Why  don't  you  ask  the  chief? "  he  asked. 

Burke  grumbled  that  he  had  already  done  so.  Cudby 
expressed  surprise.  Could  n't  he  try  again  ?  The 
chief  did  not  often  say  no  to  an  appeal  for  money. 

"  Not  often,"  said  Burke,  "  but  when  he  does,  he 
has  a  damned  way  of  saying  it." 

So  Cudby  lent  Burke  the  hundred  pounds  as  a  great 
personal  favour,  and  that  was  the  end  of  the  incident. 
Really  the  end,  for  Burke  never  paid  it  back.  He 
reflected  over  the  matter,  however,  and  realising  the 
futility  of  his  attitude  towards  Jasper,  assumed  a  less 
morose  demeanour  and  made  a  plausible  pretence  of 
earning  his  living.  Still,  he  continued  to  do  strange 
things,  to  the  annoyance  of  his  benefactor. 

One  night  Jasper,  coming  home  late  from  the  House, 
discovered  him  in  the  dining-room.  He  stood  with  his 

194 


The  Usurper 

back  to  a  small  safe  in  a  further  corner,  and  seemed 
somewhat  confused  by  Jasper's  sudden  entrance.  The 
latter  regarded  him  suspiciously.  A  heavy  day's  work 
and  a  long  weary  sitting  had  strained  his  nerves.  He 
exclaimed  irritably  against  Burke's  presence.  Burke 
moved  from  the  safe,  and  disclosed  not  evidence  of 
burglarious  intention,  but  a  glass  of  whisky  and  soda 
on  the  marble  top. 

"  I  thought  perhaps  you  would  n't  grudge  me  a 
drink,"  he  said.  "  I  was  so  thirsty." 

ct  You  should  keep  what  you  require  in  your  own 
room,"  said  Jasper. 

"  I  have  n't  got  in  whisky,  on  purpose,"  replied 
Burke  ;  "  I  've  been  trying  to  swear  off." 

He  was  perfectly  sober,  had  been  so,  in  fact,  for  some 
time. 

"  But  you  have  no  right  to  come  here  and  help  your- 
self," said  Jasper. 

"  You  don't  know  what  temptation  is,  Mr.  Vellacot. 
I  have  it  to  fight  against." 

He  spoke  in  a  tone  of  such  unusual  sincerity  that 
Jasper  put  aside  the  first  swift  assumption  that  his 
words  implied  a  taunt.  The  idea  of  a  man  struggling, 
however  feebly,  to  a  higher  self,  always  aroused  his 
sympathy.  Now  his  heart  softened.  He  forgave  the 
intrusion.  Then  the  eternal  conflict  began  again.  He 
had  provided  for  the  material  welfare  of  the  rightful, 
but  unthroned  monarch;  was  it  not  equally  his  duty 
to  stretch  out  a  hand  to  save  him  from  moral  wreck  ? 
To  this  end  he  had  done  nothing.  The  man's  life  was 


The  Usurper 

aimless,  friendless,  abandoned  to  temptation.  Perhaps 
his  sudden  prosperity  had  been  a  curse  instead  of  a 
blessing. 

Jasper  filled  his  pipe  from  a  jar  on  the  mantel-piece 
and  passed  the  tobacco  to  Burke. 

"  Sit  down  and  let  us  have  a  pipe  together,"  he  said 
kindly. 

Burke  obeyed  with  a  furtive  glance  like  that  of  a  boy 
expecting  a  moral  lecture  from  a  detested  master  sud- 
denly become  affable.  The  momentary  gush  of  sincer- 
ity was  frozen.  He  replied  monosyllabically  or  in  his 
usual  tone  of  rudeness  mingled  with  servility.  Neither 
during  this  interview,  nor  thenceforward  on  the  occasions 
when  they  met  alone,  could  Jasper  evoke  any  friendly 
response  from  the  man.  He  hugged  a  mystery  the 
heart  of  which  Jasper  could  not  touch,  still  less  pluck 
out.  Never,  since  the  first  day  when  he  had  appeared, 
a  hungry  and  disreputable  tramp,  before  Jasper's  stricken 
eyes,  had  he  changed  his  attitude  of  covert  hostility.  He 
snapped  dog-like  at  the  fingers  that  fed  him.  Said 
Cudby :  "  He  hates  you  like  the  devil  and  would  knife 
you  with  great  content." 

The  result  of  the  talk,  however,  was  that  Jasper  did 
not  come  upon  him  again  committing  trespass  in  his 
private  house;  and  he  forgot  the  incident,  just  as  he 
had  forgotten  the  occasion  when  he  had  picked  him 
up  drunk  in  the  passage  and  had  carried  him  upstairs. 
So  too  he  forgot,  after  three  minutes  of  puzzledom,  a 
little  circumstance  that  occurred  a  week  or  two  later. 
In  a  drawer  in  his  bedroom  he  kept  a  strange  collection 

196 


The  Usurper 

of  tobacco-pipes.  Some  were  new,  little  tokens  of 
gratitude  from  recipients  of  his  bounty,  or  odd  shapes 
that  had  caught  his  fancy,  and  some  were  old,  burnt 
out,  having  earned  an  honourable  retirement  by  long  and 
faithful  service.  To  collect  these,  to  arrange  them  in 
his  methodical  way,  in  their  cases,  was  Jasper's  one 
harmless  lunacy.  No  one  interfered  with  this  drawer, 
whose  neat  arrangement  was  based  on  a  scheme  of  his 
own.  But  one  day  he  noticed  that  a  large  meerschaum 
whose  place  should  have  been  at  the  back  of  the  drawer 
was  lying  across  some  cases  in  the  front.  For  three 
minutes  he  wondered ;  then  more  serious  thoughts 
claimed  the  working  of  his  ever-busy  brain,  and  the 
trivial  problem  passed  from  his  mind. 

Once  again,  lying  awake  at  three  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  he  thought  he  heard  the  sound  of  footsteps 
downstairs.  He  went  down,  assured  himself  that  it  had 
been  merely  imagination,  and  returned  to  bed.  But  as 
soon  as  the  click  of  his  bedroom-door  struck  upon  the 
silence  of  the  house,  Burke,  barefoot  and  in  pyjamas, 
emerged  from  behind  the  couch  in  Jasper's  private 
room,  and  turning  on  a  little  electric  pocket-lamp,  re- 
sumed his  interrupted  occupation  of  searching  Jasper's 
drawers,  which  he  opened  with  a  master-key. 


197 


CHAPTER   XV 

CT^HE  Chian  Wine  was  produced,  the  Carmina  Amoris 
-*•  published,  and  Bunny  became  a  star  of  the  first 
magnitude.  The  fact  of  his  heroical  exchange  of  the 
lyre  for  the  sword  was  duly  set  forth  in  every  pane- 
gyric. The  lucky  yet  hapless  poet  could  not  have 
invented  a  more  stimulating  advertisement.  On  the 
first  night  of  the  one-act  play,  when  admiring  ignorance 
clamoured  for  the  author,  the  Actor-Manager,  stepping 
before  the  curtain,  seized  the  golden  opportunity.  The 
author,  he  regretted  to  say,  was  not  in  the  house ;  in 
fact,  he  was  in  distant  lands  fighting  for  Queen  and 
country.  Deafening  applause  greeted  the  announce- 
ment. The  success  of  the  piece  was  assured,  and  the 
manager  saw  before  him  a  long  continuance  of  the 
run  of  a  somewhat  tottering  comedy.  He  also  glowed 
with  patriotic  fervour,  and  felt  as  if  he  too  were  cover- 
ing himself  with  glory  on  the  battlefield.  Riches  un- 
imagined  by  Bunny  in  his  Great  Coram  Street  lodgings 
were  accumulating  to  greet  his  arrival,  together  with 
much  fame  and  many  things  that  go  to  the  gladdening 
of  the  heart  of  man.  But  as  no  one  knew  where 
Bunny  was,  no  one  could  acquaint  him  with  his  good 
fortune. 

Suddenly,  in  the  spring  came  the  first  tidings.     Lady 
Alicia  saw  them  for  a  brief  second  in  a  morning  paper 

198 


The  Usurper 

and  then  tears  hid  them  from  her  eyes.  A  casualty  list 
contained  the  name  of  Private  Bonamy  Tredgold,  seri- 
ously wounded. 

She  rose  from  the  breakfast-table  —  since  her  adop- 
tion of  business-like  habits  she  had  thrown  off  idle  and 
luxurious  ways  and  had  come  down  to  a  solitary  meal 
in  the  dining-room  —  and  walked  to  the  window,  the 
newspaper  clenched  tightly  in  her  hand.  The  gardens 
were  lit  by  the  fresh  morning  sun,  and  the  trees  laughed 
at  her  in  their  young  spring  verdure.  But  before  her 
stretched  the  horror  of  a  treeless  waste  drenched  with 
pitiless  rain  and  a  poor  lad  lying  in  a  pool  of  blood. 
Her  face  grew  very  white  and  tears  fell  down  her  cheeks. 
She  dashed  them  away,  read  again.  Nothing  but  the 
cold,  naked  entry,  —  the  engagement,  the  regiment, 
the  name,  the  parenthetical  qualification  "  seriously." 
A  gush  of  pity  and  self-reproach  filled  her  heart.  All 
her  old  fondness,  dulled  of  late  by  engrossing  little  activi- 
ties, burst  again  into  new  life.  She  sank  into  a  chair 
by  the  window  and  wept  helplessly,  with  her  arms 
on  the  sill. 

The  sound  of  the  opening  door  made  her  spring  to 
her  feet  and  face  the  window.  No  one  should  see  her 
crying. 

"  Miss  Fargus  has  come,  my  lady,"  said  the  ser- 
vant, according  to  formula.  Miss  Fargus  was  the 
typist,  and  this  announcement  of  her  arrival  constituted 
a  signal  for  Alicia  to  enter  her  "  office."  The  servant 
withdrew.  Alicia  was  brought  back  to  diurnal  things. 
She  dried  her  eyes,  somewhat  ashamed  of  having  given 

199 


The  Usurper 

way  to  her  feelings.  But  she  had  not  heart  to  work 
that  morning.  The  needs  of  an  abstract  soldiery  paled 
before  the  lurid  necessities  of  a  concrete  individual. 
What  could  be  done  for  him  ?  For  once  in  her  life 
she  felt  by  no  means  self-reliant.  Then  suddenly,  as 
if  it  were  a  picture  in  her  mind,  she  became  aware  of 
Jasper's  strong,  kind  face.  A  half-smile  came  into  her 
eyes. 

u  Of  course,"  she  said  aloud,  and  her  heart  seemed, 
in  an  odd  way,  to  grow  lighter.  She  must  see  him 
at  once.  The  thought  was  in  itself  promise  of  comfort. 
Instinctively  her  nature  cried  for  him.  A  tremulous 
hesitation,  such  as  she  had  never  experienced  when 
impelled  to  seek  his  counsel  on  matter-of-fact  questions, 
she  did  not  understand.  Her  resolution,  however,  was 
formed.  She  ordered  the  victoria,  and  soon  afterwards 
was  driving  to  Gower  Street. 

Jasper  met  her  in  his  grave  way,  and  his  eyes  held 
more  than  their  usual  sadness. 

"Yes,  I  have  seen  the  news.     Poor  lad  !  " 

His  tone  rang  with  so  true  an  emotion  that  again 
Alicia's  vision  became  blurred. 

"We  must  do  something  for  him,  Cousin  Jasper," 
she  said  with  interlocked  fingers.  "We  must.  He 
can't  be  allowed  to  stay  in  that  awful  country.  What 
can  we  do  ?  " 

"  We  must  bide  our  time.  I  have  already  cabled  out 
for  particulars.  Reply  paid.  I  have  also  cabled  to 
Bunny  himself.  I  took  the  liberty,"  he  added  apolo- 
getically, "of  including  your  name  in  my  message  to 

200 


The  Usurper 

Bunny.     Of  course,  Heaven  knows  whether  we  will 
get  any  replies." 

But  Alicia  had  paid  no  heed  to  the  last  sentence. 
She  gave  Jasper  a  grateful  look  and  held  out  her  hand. 

u  How  good,  how  kind  of  you !  I  might  have 
known.  Only  you  would  have  thought  of  cabling  at 
once  —  and  letting  me  share  in  the  message.  What 
made  you  think  of  me  ?  " 

"  Are  you  ever  out  of  my  thoughts,  Alicia  —  where 
our  dear  lad  is  concerned  ? "  he  added,  somewhat  dis- 
ingenuously. u  I  sent  him  our  love,  told  him  he  must 
let  us  get  him  back  and  we  would  pull  him  through. 
I  also  said  that  when  he  came  home  he  would  find 
himself  rich  and  famous.  I  thought  it  would  comfort 
him,  you  know." 

"  But  how  are  you  going  to  get  him  home  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  '11  manage  that  somehow,"  said  Jasper,  cheer- 
fully. 

u  He  must  come  down  to  Hertfordshire  and  be 
nursed,"  said  Alicia. 

"  The  very  thing.  But,"  said  he  with  a  smile, 
a  you  must  n't  expect  him  to  turn  up  the  day  after 
to-morrow." 

Then  Alicia  laughed  and  held  out  her  hand. 

"  I  won't  worry  any  more.  Now  that  you  have 
made  yourself  responsible  for  his  welfare  I  feel  that 
it  will  go  well  with  him." 

"  I  am  afraid  I  am  not  always  infallible,"  said  Jasper. 

"  But  you  are  going  to  be  this  time.  I  am  sure 
of  it,"  she  replied. 

201 


The  Usurper 

As  he  opened  the  front  door  for  her,  the  freshness 
of  the  morning  burst  upon  him,  and  revived  the  colo- 
nial-bred man's  nostalgia  for  wide  spaces  and  sky  and 
sunshine. 

"  Oh,  the  sweet  air,"  he  exclaimed,  drawing  in  a  deep 
breath.  "  I  wish  —  I  wish  I  were  not  going  indoors 
again." 

"  Why  need  you  ?  " 

"  Work,"  he  laughed. 

She  lingered  on  the  step,  vaguely  conscious  of  being 
loath  to  say  good-bye.  Gradually  he  had  grown  to 
represent  to  her  counsel  and  comfort  and  strength. 
Never  so  much  as  to-day.  How  widely  her  point  of 
view  had  changed  since  the  beginning  of  their  friend- 
ship, when  she  had  regarded  him  as  "  a  shy  elderly 
child,"  she  did  not  at  all  realise.  She  glanced  at  him 
and  then  at  the  neat  victoria  standing  invitingly  open 
by  the  kerb.  She  blushed,  lost  for  a  delicate  moment 
her  royal  air. 

"  Come  for  a  little  drive  with  me,"  she  pleaded. 

He  had  not  heard  before  that  tone  in  her  voice 
or  seen  that  soft  shyness  in  her  eyes.  An  impossible 
hope,  an  irrational  fear  vibrated  through  him.  His 
nature  hungered  for  her  as  it  hungered  for  the  pure, 
fresh  air.  The  morning  was  subtle  with  all  the  temp- 
tations of  spring.  For  a  second  or  two  he  looked  at 
her  dreamily,  deliciously,  the  visionary  in  him  filled 
with  swift  sense  of  green  fields  and  working  sap  and  the 
song  of  birds  and  the  breath  of  the  passionately  loved 
woman  fluttering  on  his  lips. 

202 


The  Usurper 

At  that  moment  the  door  of  the  next  house  opened 
and  Burke  emerged,  gaunt  and  pallid.  He  raised  his  hat 
and  went  down  the  street.  The  sight  of  him  brought 
Jasper  back  to  earth  and  its  immutable  conditions. 

"  Let  me  decide  for  you,"  said  Alicia. 

He  started.  It  seemed  as  if  it  had  been  an  hour 
since  her  last  words  were  uttered.  He  stammered  an 
apology  for  keeping  her  waiting  for  an  answer.  There 
were  so  many  things  to  be  thought  of.  Yes,  he 
would  dearly  love  the  drive.  It  would  clear  long- 
gathering  cobwebs.  Would  she  wait  two  minutes  ? 

After  handing  her  into  the  carriage  he  went  indoors 
to  give  necessary  orders,  and  presently  came  out  and 
joined  her.  They  drove  off.  He  knew  now  that  he 
was  safe  from  temptation,  no  matter  how  yielding  were 
her  mood,  no  matter  how  subtle  were  the  influences 
of  the  spring  morning.  For  a  while  he  remained 
silent,  depressed  by  the  reaction.  It  would  have 
been  so  natural,  so  easy  to  tell  her  that  he  loved  her. 
And  it  was  so  impossible.  But  soon  his  will  threw 
off  the  burden.  The  actual  happiness  of  the  moment 
demanded  appreciation.  Was  there  not  the  fresh  air 
and  the  sunshine,  and  promise  of  fuller  measure  in  the 
open  country  of  Hampstead  whither  they  were  driving  ? 
And  was  she  not  very  close  to  him,  sharing  the  carriage 
rug,  in  charming  intimacy  ?  These  were  blessings  that 
the  shadows  of  a  hundred  Burkes  could  not  depreciate. 
So  he  became  his  wise  and  kindly  self  again,  and  this 
drive  brought  them  nearer  together  than  they  had  been 
before,  and  served,  although  neither  knew  it,  as  a  little 

203 


The  Usurper 

landmark  in  their  lives.     They  talked  of  many  things  ; 
inevitably  came  back  to  the  one  topic. 

"  If  we  only  knew  that  he  was  out  of  danger,"  said 
Alicia. 

"  He  is  young  and  strong." 

u  But  those  whom  the  gods  love  —  " 

"  The  gods  don't  love  anybody.  God  does,"  replied 
Jasper,  "and  those  whom  He  loveth  He  chasteneth, 
He  doesn't  kill  them  for  sport.  He  has  marked  out 
a  great  future  for  Bunny.  So  the  lad  will  come  home 
with  the  seal  of  God  upon  him  and  be  one  of  the 
teachers  of  the  nation." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  Alicia.  "  The  other  is  a 
foolish  saying." 

Eventually  she  put  him  down  at  his  own  door.  He 
thanked  her  for  the  drive.  It  had  done  him  a  world 
of  good. 

u  And  me  too,"  said  Alicia.  "  It  has  put  courage 
into  me.  But  it  would  n't  if  you  had  n't  been  there." 

She  spoke  simple  truth,  for  she  went  home  greatly 
comforted,  having  found  strength  to  endure  suspense 
and  faith  in  the  rightful  ordering  of  things.  And  these 
qualities  were  needed  by  those  who  held  Bunny  dear. 
Grave  news  reached  them.  The  wound  was  through 
the  body.  An  attack  of  rheumatic  fever  complicated 
matters.  They  passed  many  anxious  weeks.  At  last 
summer  came,  and  Bunny  was  invalided  home.  Jasper 
bought  his  discharge  from  the  army,  and  arranged  for  his 
voyage  to  England  in  luxury  befitting  a  wounded  field- 
marshal. 

204 


The  Usurper 

They  travelled  together  to  Southampton  to  meet  the 
boat.  A  special  invalid  carriage,  bright  with  flowers 
and  clean  white  pillows  and  dainty  invalid  food,  was 
attached  to  the  London  train.  They  stood  on  the  quay, 
by  the  long  line  of  sheds,  among  the  crowd  waiting  to 
welcome  relatives  and  friends.  Some  were  laughing 
gaily ;  some  dressed  in  black  were  silent  ;  others,  un- 
mistakable soldiers'  wives,  stood  with  lined  faces  set 
in  the  dull  certitude  of  ill-tidings.  The  basin  with 
its  many  wharves  stretched  about  them.  At  one,  an 
outward-bound  ship  flying  the  Blue  Peter  was  taking 
in  cargo.  Here  and  there  a  great  liner  bearing  on  her 
stern  an  almost  historic  name  lay  at  her  moorings. 
Under  the  shed  behind  them  stood  Custom  House 
officials  and  porters  with  trucks,  patient  and  unexpectant, 
contrasting  with  the  nervous  visitors.  All  had  eyes 
upon  the  funnels  of  the  approaching  ship.  Presently 
she  entered  the  harbour,  majestic,  colossal,  nearing  with 
slow  and  certain  grandeur.  Her  crowded  decks  became 
a-flutter  with  white  handkerchiefs.  Those  on  shore 
responded,  and  broke  into  cries  of  recognition.  The 
vast  bulk  of  the  steamer  slowed  down  to  the  quay  side. 
Happy  greetings  were  exchanged.  Alicia  and  Jasper 
strained  their  eyes  among  the  thousand  figures  on 
deck. 

"  Oh,  he  is  n't  there,"  she  said  in  a  tone  of  disap- 
pointment. 

"We  could  hardly  expect  it,"  he  replied. 

She  took  his  arm  instinctively  as  she  made  way  for 
porters  wheeling  a  gangway. 

205 


The  Usurper 

vt  It  was  foolish,  I  know,  but  I  had  set  my  heart 
upon  seeing  him  up  to  welcome  us." 

The  gangways  were  fixed.  The  decks,  the  quay, 
were  alive  with  hurry  and  movement.  There  were 
embracings  and  handshakes  and  tears  and  laughter. 
Now  and  then  a  gaunt  brown  man  would  answer  a 
group  of  anxious  women,  of  whom  one  would  turn  as 
white  as  death  and  fall  widowed  or  childless  into  the 
arms  of  her  sisters.  And  an  endless  stream  of  broken, 
bandaged,  fever-stricken  men  carrying  shapeless  bundles 
poured  out  of  the  ship  and  filed  in  a  straggling  line 
through  the  sheds  toward  the  train. 

"  This  is  his  cabin,"  said  the  ship's  doctor,  with  his 
hand  on  the  door-handle ;  "  you  may  go  in." 

He  pushed  open  the  door,  and  they  entered.  A  nurse 
rose  from  the  couch  beneath  the  port-hole.  And  there, 
in  the  lower  berth,  propped  up  with  pillows,  and  dressed, 
for  the  first  time  since  his  illness,  in  loose  flannels  with 
which  Jasper's  agents  had  provided  him,  lay  Bunny. 
But  it  was  a  very  different  Bunny  from  the  strong, 
laughing  lad  they  had  known  a  year  before.  All  his  air 
of  a  young  Apollo  with  the  music  of  earth  at  his  com- 
mand had  gone.  His  face  was  white  beneath  the  linger- 
ing tan,  and  his  lips  were  drawn  and  pinched,  and  his 
cheeks  were  hollow  and  lined,  and  his  eyes  were  haggard. 
He  looked  many  years  older.  A  thin  drooping  moustache 
altered  him  and  added  further  to  his  appearance  of  age. 
He  stretched  out  both  hands  as  they  came  up  to  him. 

"  Oh,  God  bless  you.     Thank  God  you  've  come." 

"  My  poor  Bunny  !  "  said  Alicia  after  a  while,  her 
206 


The  Usurper 

bare  hand    on    his    forehead.      He    took    the  hand  and 
kissed  it. 

"  I  don't  care  what  happens  to  me  now." 

"That's  very  sensible,  sonny,"  said  Jasper.  "The 
less  you  care  the  more  chance  it  will  give  those  who 
are  looking  after  you." 

"  Still,  you  had  no  business  to  do  all  this  for  me," 
said  Bunny  in  a  weak  voice,  indicating  the  gorgeous 
state-room.  "  I  was  only  a  blooming  Tommy.  I  was 
helpless  and  couldn't  object." 

"  Well,  I  wash  my  hands  of  you  now,"  said  Jasper. 
"  Do  you  know  what  your  fate 's  going  to  be  ?  " 

Bunny  looked  gratefully  up  at  each  in  turn. 

"  Some  silly  bed  of  roses,  I  suppose." 

Then  he  closed  his  eyes  and  turned  his  head  on  the 
pillow,  still  holding  Alicia's  hand. 

"  He  has  n't  much  strength  yet,"  said  the  nurse,  in  a 
low  tone,  to  Jasper.  "  But  he  is  a  lot  better  than  when 
we  sailed.  I  hardly  thought  he  would  get  through  the 
voyage.  Thank  goodness  it  has  been  fairly  smooth  all 
the  way." 

The  doctor  summoned  Jasper  into  the  corridor.  The 
nurse  followed,  and  went  off  to  her  own  cabin  to  com- 
plete her  landing  preparations.  Bunny  and  Alicia  were 
left  alone. 

"  I  want  to  carry  you  off  to  Greybrooke  straight 
away,  Bunny  dear.  That 's  what  Jasper  meant  when 
he  said  he  had  washed  his  hands  of  you.  He  has  done 
everything  and  as  yet  I  have  done  nothing.  You  '11 
come,  won't  you  ?  " 

207 


The  Usurper 

Bunny  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  at  her  dreamily. 
u  Greybrooke,  among  the  apple-trees  —  I  was  longing 
for  it." 

u  That 's  settled,  then.  You  are  very  good  to  do 
what  you  are  told  in  this  sweet  way." 

"  Was  I  so  hard  to  manage  before  ?  I  suppose  I 
was.  And  a  graceless  beggar  to  boot.  But  I  won't  be 
ungrateful  any  longer.  I  swear  I  won't,  Alicia." 

"  But  you  never  were  ungrateful,  Bunny." 

"  I  should  have  written  to  you.  As  soon  as  they 
read  me  the  cable  —  the  first  one  —  I  cried  like  a  baby, 
I  think  I  was  held  together  in  health  by  original  sin. 
Doctor  says  my  heart 's  gone  wrong.  I  hope  it 's  be- 
cause the  turpitude  has  left  it." 

Alicia  laid  a  soothing  touch  on  his  forehead. 

"  Are  you  in  much  pain  now  ?  " 

"  A  little  —  nothing  to  speak  of.  But  I  'm  so  tired. 
Tell  me  what  you  have  dipped  your  fingers  in  —  honey- 
dew  or  the  milk  of  Paradise  ?  They  are  so  soft  and 
cool.  Don't  take  them  away." 

Her  woman's  heart  melted  over  him,  as  she  traced  in 
voice  and  phrase  and  feature  the  faint  echo  and  shadow 
of  the  old  Bunny.  The  little  tribute  to  her  touch  was 
exquisite,  called  up  a  flush  to  her  cheeks  and  moisture 
to  her  eyes.  She  bent  over  him,  saying  nothing,  deeply 
shocked  at  the  evidence  of  his  suffering,  deeply  happy  at 
having  him  at  last  under  her  sole  protection. 

"You've  done  your  hair  differently,"  said  Bunny, 
breaking  the  silence.  "  Is  that  this  year's  fashion  ?  It 
is  very  charming." 

ao8 


The  Usurper 

"  Fancy  your  noticing,"  replied  Alicia,  making  the 
instinctive  and  inevitable  feminine  rejoinder  and  smiling 
with  pleasure.  "  Do  you  remember  how  it  was  done 
before?" 

u  I  've  been  living  on  memories  for  a  long  time,"  he 
answered.  "  Often  there  was  nothing  else  to  live 
upon." 

"  My  poor  Bunny,"  said  Alicia,  saddened  by  his  tone. 

But  whether  he  referred  to  spiritual  or  material  needs 
she  could  not  then  and  there  determine,  for  at  that 
moment  the  door  opened  and  Jasper  and  the  doctor  and 
the  nurse  and  the  ambulance- bearers  came  in  to  transfer 
him  to  the  train.  They  wrapped  him  up  in  blankets 
and  carried  him  on  shore,  Jasper  and  Alicia  walking  by 
the  side  of  the  stretcher,  and  the  nurse,  who  was  to 
continue  her  care  of  him  at  Greybrooke,  followed  with 
the  little  bag  that  contained  Bunny's  worldly  possessions. 
On  the  way  Alicia  touched  Jasper's  arm. 

"  I  shall  never  be  sufficiently  grateful  to  you,"  she 
murmured. 

Jasper  regarded  her  somewhat  uncomprehendingly. 
"  Why  should  you  be  so  at  all  ?  The  lad  is  as  dear  to 
me  as  he  is  to  you.  We  each  do  our  share." 

"Without  you,  I  should  not  have  been  able  to  do 
mine,"  she  replied  quickly. 

In  a  few  minutes  they  were  speeding  Londonwards. 
Bunny  lay  on  the  invalid  bed  in  the  saloon  carriage, 
propped  up  so  that  he  could  see  the  sweet  green  English 
land  and  the  old  grey  churches  brooding  over  quiet 
English  hamlets  and  the  pleasant  trees  around  English 
14  209 


The  Usurper 

homes.  He  had  yearned  after  the  sight,  he  said.  It 
surpassed  expectation.  He  whispered  to  Alicia  that  it 
was  like  her  fingers.  There  were  times  when  weakness 
forced  him  to  lie  back  and  shut  his  eyes,  and  then  his 
face  looked  very  peaked  and  sharp.  But  he  exerted 
himself  to  show  his  appreciation  of  the  love  into  which 
he  had  entered.  He  tried  to  express  it  to  Jasper,  but 
for  once  his  ready  tongue  failed  him.  Tears  rolled 
down  his  cheeks.  Jasper  blew  his  nose  loudly  and  told 
him  to  go  to  sleep.  When  he  waked  up  in  London  he 
would  find  himself  famous.  Bunny  pressed  his  friend's 
hand,  but  shook  his  head  and  stared  for  a  while  absently 
out  of  the  window.  Instead  of  heartening  him  up,  as 
Jasper  had  fondly  anticipated,  the  reference  seemed  only 
to  depress  him.  Once  he  drew  their  attention  to  a 
rustic  couple  —  she  waist-encircled  —  in  a  deep  lane 
embowered  in  June  foliage. 

"  Idyllic,"  said  Jasper,  with  a  smile. 

u  The  setting  makes  it  so." 

u  Not  entirely,  Bunny  dear,"  said  Alicia.  u  You  will 
write  a  sweet  little  poem  about  it  when  you  get  well 
and  strong." 

But  Bunny  once  more  shook  his  head  mournfully. 

u  c  L'oiseau  se  tait,  Faquilon  a  grond'e  '  —  the  bird  is 
mute,  the  storm  is  in  the  wind,"  said  he. 

"  No,  my  dear  chap,  it 's  sweet  summer  weather  now," 
said  Jasper. 

u  Well,  we  '11  change  the  metaphor,"  replied  Bunny, 
with  a  faint  return  to  his  old  insistence.  "  The  clock's 
got  wheezy  and  the  cuckoo  won't  come  out  and  cuckoo 

210 


The  Usurper 

any  more.  I  think  I  shall  learn  to  make  boots.  Have 
you  any  professors  of  cordwaining  at  Greybrooke, 
Alicia  ?  I  'd  love  to  make  shoes  for  you.  I  'd  kiss 
them  before  you  put  them  on  —  and  after." 

u  You  shall  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  she  answered. 
"  You  have  to  go  on  being  sweet  and  doing  as  you  are 
bid." 

u  I  '11  be  good,"  said  Bunny. 

He  was  exhausted  from  excitement  and  fatigue  when 
they  put  him  to  bed  in  the  pleasant  southern  room  at 
Greybrooke,  in  spite  of  the  tender  care  with  which  they 
had  conveyed  him  across  London  and  from  the  little 
Hertfordshire  station  to  the  house.  He  sank  asleep 
almost  immediately  and  they  left  him  in  charge  of  the 
nurse. 

Jasper  dined  with  Alicia  and  Lady  Luxmoore.  Then 
took  an  early  evening  train  back  to  town.  Cudby  met 
him  at  King's  Cross.  Out  of  pure,  idle  friendliness,  he 
explained.  Besides,  he  wanted  early  tidings  of  the 
warrior-poet.  As  they  walked  homeward,  Jasper  told 
him  of  the  day's  happenings.  At  the  corner  of  Russell 
Square  and  Keppel  Street,  Cudby  stopped  dead  and  put 
up  his  gold  eyeglass  and  quizzically  regarded  his  chief. 

"  '  My  good  Lysander,'  "  said  he, 

'*  *  I  swear  to  thee  by  Cupid's  strongest  bow, 
By  his  best  arrow  with  the  golden  head, 
By  the  simplicity  of  Venus'  doves  —  *  " 

"What  damned  nonsense  are  you  talking,  Tom?" 
said  Jasper. 

211 


The  Usurper 

"  My  good  Lysander  Jasper  or  Jasper  Lysander," 
continued  Cudby,  "  I  swear  to  you  that  you  are  holding 
the  candle  to  a  very  pretty  love-affair." 

Jasper  took  him  by  the  collar  and  dragged  him  a  yard 
or  so  beneath  the  neighbouring  gas-lamp,  and  regarded 
him  half  angrily,  half-contemptuously. 

u  I  never  imagined,"  said  he,  "  that  your  cynicism 
could  have  landed  you  in  such  unplumbed  depths  of 
idiocy." 

Then  he  released  the  offender  and  strode  off.  Cudby 
shrugged  his  shoulders,  followed,  and  entertained  Jasper 
with  office  details  until  they  parted  for  the  night. 


212 


CHAPTER   XVI 

FOR  some  time  Bunny  lay  in  bed,  ministered  unto  by 
his  nurse  and  by  Lady  Alicia,  and  content  to  dream 
away  his  days  in  animal  comfort.  He  had  not  the  energy 
to  repeat  the  gallant  effort  he  had  made  under  the  ex- 
citement of  meeting.  He  was  neither  lying  on  his 
stomach  in  the  mud  with  his  rifle  against  his  cheek,  nor 
marching  wearily  with  blistered  and  burning  feet,  nor 
gasping  for  hours  on  his  back  under  the  shelter  of  a  rock 
whither  a  comrade  had  dragged  him,  half  delirious  from 
the  thirst  of  his  gunshot  wound,  nor  longing  for  death,  a 
sentient  agony,  in  the  crowded  field  hospital,  nor  thrown 
painfully  to  and  fro  by  the  pitch  of  the  steamer,  while 
the  vibration  of  the  screw  rattled  his  brain  about.  These 
things  were  over;  what  else  might  happen  he  did  not 
care.  Sufficient  for  the  day  was  the  slothful  ease  thereof. 
He  did  not  mend  as  rapidly  as  they  expected.  Bond, 
the  country  doctor,  shook  his  head.  A  London  physi- 
cian came  down  and  met  him  in  consultation.  Diag- 
nosed a  general  condition  of  asthenia  and  functional 
disturbance  consequent  on  his  wound  and  his  illness,  and 
told  Bunny  he  must  have  had  the  constitution  of  a  rhi- 
noceros to  survive  rheumatic  fever  on  top  of  a  bullet-hole 
through  his  body.  When  he  walked  awhile  later  with 
Lady  Alicia  in  the  sweet  old  garden,  with  its  fair-stretch- 
ing lawn,  its  rook-haunted  elms,  its  rhododendrons  and 

213 


The  Usurper 

acacias  and  laburnums  and  windings  and  secret  recesses, 
and  she  asked  him  what  he  would  prescribe  for  the  inva- 
lid, he  made  a  circular  sweep  of  his  hand  in  which  she 
herself  was  included. 

"  This,"  said  he. 

"  He  may  grow  weary  of  it." 

11 1  wish  I  were  an  invalid  and  had  this  cure  prescribed 
me,"  he  replied.  "  By  the  way,"  he  continued  sharply, 
"  has  he  had  any  mental  or  emotional  worries  ? " 

Lady  Alicia  looked  bravely  into  his  keen  eyes  and 
smiled  and  for  the  moment  detested  him  cordially. 

"  He  is  a  poet  and  he  is  young,"  she  answered  with 
some  demureness. 

u  Then  keep  him  as  quiet  as  ever  you  can." 

"  He  will  be  sure  to  get  well  and  strong  again  ?  " 

"  Give  him  rest  and  quiet  and  there  is  no  earthly 
reason  why  he  should  n't." 

The  physician  conferred  with  the  country  doctor,  and 
went  back  to  London,  leaving  Alicia  greatly  comforted. 
Of  perfect  health  herself,  and  unaccustomed  to  sick- 
rooms, she  had  become  alarmed  at  Bunny's  apathy.  She 
had  felt  vaguely  disappointed  that,  after  the  first  day  at 
Greybrooke,  he  had  not  grown  lusty  and  strong,  like  the 
palsied  after  their  dip  in  Bethesda.  His  retarded  conva- 
lescence seemed  like  a  reproach  both  to  her  personality 
and  to  her  sanatorium.  And  though  Lady  Luxmoore 
argued  the  matter  from  ripe  matronly  experience,  she 
refused  to  be  convinced.  Now  she  took  heart  of  grace, 
however,  and  looked  forward  to  better  days. 

They  slowly  came.  Bunny's  interest  in  things  began 
214 


The  Usurper 

to  revive.  Soon  he  was  able  to  leave  his  room.  At  last 
the  day  arrived  when  he  could  be  wheeled  into  the  garden 
by  the  footman.  This  happened  to  be  a  Sunday  when 
Jasper  and  Elinor  Currey  had  run  down  for  the  after- 
noon. They  were  awaiting  him  with  Lady  Luxmoore  in 
the  shade  of  a  sycamore  on  the  lawn.  Near  by  stood  a 
tea-table  daintily  set  with  china  and  silver  and  straw- 
berries. Alicia  appeared,  bringing  Bunny  up  to  them  in 
triumph.  Then  there  was  much  handshaking  and  con- 
gratulation ;  the  three  women  petted  him,  in  their  several 
ways,  to  the  content  of  any  young  man's  heart,  while 
Jasper  looked  on  in  mild  approval. 

"  It  is  lovely  to  see  you,"  cried  Elinor  Currey,  pour- 
ing cream  over  his  strawberries  ;  "  but  oh,  Bunny,  are  n't 
you  ashamed  of  yourself  ?" 

"  Dear  lady,"  replied  Bunny,  «  I  've  had  a  bullet-hole 
through  my  body  and  it  has  let  all  the  shame  out.  I  felt 
it  escaping  like  gas." 

"  Did  it  hurt  you  very  much  ? "  she  said  in  a  low  voice, 
suddenly  grown  tender. 

But  he  would  not  be  serious.  "  It  was  a  great  relief. 
It  all  went.  If  you  were  to  offer  to  feed  me  with  that 
strawberry  mush  you  are  making,  I  'd  swallow  the  spoon- 
fuls unabashed." 

She  returned  a  laughing  answer,  and  they  sparred  as 
they  had  always  done.  Once,  eager  for  personal  experi- 
ences, she  referred  to  the  war.  Bunny's  face  suddenly 
clouded  over. 

"  Some  day  —  by  yourself —  I  '11  tell  you,"  he  said. 

A  few  minutes  later  Alicia  drew  Elinor  Currey  aside. 
2I5 


The  Usurper 

"  You  must  n't  talk  to  him  about  the  war  or  his  poetry. 
I  ought  to  have  told  you.  It  depresses  him." 

"  I  thought  he  would  be  full  of  it.  He  was  always 
bursting  with  anything  that  interested  him." 

"  He  is  a  bit  changed,"  said  Alicia  with  a  sigh,  instinct- 
ively looking  over  her  shoulder  towards  the  invalid  chair 
by  which  stood  Jasper  hiding  Bunny  from  view.  The 
corners  of  Elinor  Currey's  strong  mouth  went  down 
mockingly.  Then  she  said  in  her  blunt  fashion,  — 

"  Don't  you  think  we  're  all  of  us  just  a  bit  in  love 
with  him,  Alicia  ?  " 

Alicia  turned  her  head,  but  she  did  not  look  at  her 
questioner. 

"  Are  we  ?  "  she  said  dreamily. 

u  Yes,  we  are,"  replied  the  other,  with  a  short  laugh 
and  a  tug  at  her  unbuttoned  glove,  "  and  we  ought  n't 
to  be.  He  's  too  good  to  be  spoiled,  and  we  are  all  of 
us  foolish  women." 

A  little  spark  traversed  Lady  Alicia's  candid  eyes. 
She  recovered  her  serenity  and  laid  her  hand  kindly  on 
her  friend's  wrist. 

u  Dear  Elinor,"  she  said,  "  I  never  thought  that  you 
cared  for  Bunny  in  that  way — I  am  so  sorry." 

And  before  Elinor  Currey  could  find"  words  to  ex- 
press her  feelings,  Alicia  turned  and  swept  gracefully 
towards  the  others.  Elinor  came  up  with  a  little  red 
spot  on  each  cheek  and  the  unspoken  rejoinder  on  her 
lips. 

"  Elinor  says  we  are  spoiling  him,  Jasper.  What  are 
we  to  do  ?  " 

216 


The  Usurper 

"  What  would  Miss  Currey  suggest  ?  " 

u  I  never  said  any  such  thing,  Bunny  !  "  cried  the 
accused  young  woman,  hotly. 

"  Then  you  ought  to  have  done  so,  Madonna,  and 
spoken  the  truth  for  once.  I  seem  to  want  to  do  noth- 
ing else  all  my  life  long  but  sit  in  this  sweet  garden  — 
and  wrangle  with  you." 

"  Oh,  I  should  drive  you  crazy  in  a  week." 

"  Alicia  would  come  and  rescue  me  when  you  grew 
unbearable." 

He  leaned  back  among  his  cushions  and  laughed,  en- 
joying languidly  the  companionship  from  which  he  had 
so  long  been  separated;  anxious  to  live  in  the  fleeting 
moment  of  content  away  from  the  past  and  to  give 
himself  up  to  the  soft  afternoon  sunshine  and  the  shady 
garden  and  the  pleasant  and  well-loved  faces.  It  was 
sweet,  too,  to  talk  again,  to  express  the  fancy  of  the 
instant  to  understanding  listeners.  Without  realising 
it  he  had  suffered  considerably  from  suppression. 

u  I  believe  she  is  jealous,  Alicia,"  he  remarked, 
"  because  she  is  n't  lotus  eating  like  me.  I  hope  you  're 
not  running  short,  are  you  ?  If  Jasper  were  a  real 
philanthropist,  he  'd  buy  one  of  the  Fortunate  Isles  — 
they  are  going  cheap  these  days — and  grow  lotus  for 
the  European  market.  And  another  island  might  be 
set  apart  for  the  manufacture  of  amaranth  couches. 
You  could  regulate  the  prices  —  charge  the  millionaire 
seven-eighths  of  his  fortune  and  give  the  stuff  away 
in  workhouses." 

"There  would  be  precious  little  work  done  in    the 
217 


The  Usurper 

world,    my    friend,"   said    Jasper.      "  The    race   would 
soon  come  to  a  full   stop." 

"  Why  should  n't  it  ?  "  said  Bunny. 

"  You  are  getting  spoiled,"  cried  Elinor  Currey. 
"  If  you  go  on  talking  this  silly  pessimism,  I  '11  never 
let  you  see  me  again." 

"  Don't  put  temptation  in  my  way,  dear  Madonna," 
he  retorted. 

He  was  delighted,  boyishly,  at  his  thrust  and  at  the 
final  discomfiture  of  his  antagonist.  Then  with  a  laugh 
he  stretched  out  his  hand  to  her. 

"  No  malice,  is  there  ? "  said  he.  "  It  is  like  old 
times." 

The  conversation  became  general,  drifted  on  to 
homely  topics  ;  at  last  the  hush  of  the  waning  after- 
noon spread  itself  over  the  little  party,  and  they  sat  for 
a  while  in  the  sweet  silence  of  mutual  trust  and  inti- 
macy. The  rooks  cawed  from  the  neighbouring  elms, 
the  bells  for  church-going  folk  sounded  faintly  from  the 
Gothic  tower  half  a  mile  away,  and  the  smoke-wreaths 
from  Jasper's  pipe  curled  lazily  upwards  through  the 
still  air.  And  Bunny  went  fast  asleep. 

After  dinner,  when  Elinor  Currey  was  putting  on  her 
things  in  Alicia's  bedroom,  she  turned  somewhat  des- 
perately on  her  friend. 

u  You  did  n*t  understand  what  I  meant  this  afternoon 
—  about  Bunny.  If  you  think  it  was  a  confession,  you 
are  mistaken.  It  was  a  warning." 

Alicia  pulled  down  Elinor's  jacket  in  front  and 
smoothed  it  at  the  waist. 

218 


The  Usurper 

"I  quite  understood  you,  dear.  But  it  is  best  not 
to  speak  of  these  things." 

"  Because  we  women  are  so  little." 

"No,  dear,"  replied  Alicia,  —  "because  the  issues 
involved  are  so  great." 

Then  in  her  stately  way  she  bent  down  and  kissed 
her.  Elinor  returned  the  embrace. 

"  You  would  put  the  whole  hierarchy  of  heaven  in 
the  wrong,  Alicia,"  she  said,  adjusting  her  veil. 

Alicia  could  be  the  great  lady  at  times.  u  I  am  sure  I 
should,  dear,"  she  answered,  "  if  it  were  necessary." 

When  her  guests  were  gone,  she  went  up  as  usual 
to  Bunny's  room  and  knocked  softly.  On  the  response 
from  within,  she  opened  it  and  stood  on  the  threshold 
and  asked  if  he  were  comfortable  for  the  night.  He 
motioned  her  near  to  him,  she  bent  over  the  bed,  he 
took  her  hand  and  laid  it  against  his  cheek. 

"  Bless  you  for  this  very  sweet  day,"  he  said.  "  How 
can  I  ever  repay  you  ? " 

"  By  getting  well  and  strong,  Bunny  dear,  and  taking 
your  place  as  a  man  in  the  world  again,"  she  whispered. 

Her  lips  were  so  near  him.  For  the  second  it  seemed 
quite  natural  to  bring  them  nearer  and  kiss  him  on  the 
forehead.  Then  with  a  murmured  "  Good-night,"  she 
left  him  and  went  downstairs.  Lady  Luxmoore  had 
gone  to  bed.  The  French  windows  of  the  drawing- 
room  were  open  on  to  the  terrace.  It  was  a  warm  still 
night,  and  a  bright  gibbous  moon,  low  on  the  horizon, 
stared  in  at  her.  She  drew  a  chair  to  the  window  and 
sat  down  and  thought  of  what  Elinor  Currey  had  said. 

219 


The  Usurper 

Vague  desires  and  sweet,  dreamy  sentimentalities  crys- 
tallised into  coherence.  Why  should  it  not  be  true  ? 
He  had  always  been  dear  to  her.  Why  should  not  this 
sweet  affection  be  the  love  that  had  never  yet  come 
into  her  life  ?  Memories  crowded  in  upon  her,  —  half- 
understood  things,  which  suddenly  this  touchstone  seemed 
to  bring  into  order  and  clearness.  The  newer  tender- 
ness that  had  stirred  her  since  Bunny  had  come  home 
welled  up  in  her  heart.  She  still  felt  the  touch  on  the 
back  of  the  hand  which  he  had  pressed  against  his 
cheek.  Why  should  it  not  be  true  ? 

The  unconscious  appeal  that  Bunny  made  to  all  that 
was  responsive  in  her  would  have  shaken  a  stronger  and 
a  colder  woman.  The  glamour  of  youth  was  over  the 
lad;  the  glamour  of  his  poetical  inspiration  and  his 
fame ;  the  glamour  of  the  soldier's  manhood  and  hero- 
ism. The  man  who  has  faced  death  and  has  dealt 
death  with  his  own  hand  is  ever  a  strange  personality 
to  women,  stirring  the  remote  but  ineradicable  barbaric. 
Youth  has  its  own  superb  enchantment  and  genius  com- 
pels wonder.  And  when  this  paragon  of  disturbing 
qualities  lies  wounded  and  ill  and  helpless  as  a  child, 
at  the  mercy  of  a  woman,  what  can  she  do  but  pour 
upon  him  all  of  her  heart  that  is  solvent  ?  It  is  indeed 
a  very  antiquated  story.  To  Alicia  it  was  new. 

For  a  long  time  she  sat  in  the  moonlight  tremulously 
viewing  a  possible  future.  She  saw  herself  for  ever 
brooding  tenderwise  over  Bunny,  shielding  him  from 
the  rough  uses  of  the  world,  and  inspiring  him  to 
immortal  verse.  His  happiness  would  be  her  aim  in 

220 


The  Usurper 

life,  her  happiness.  It  was  an  exquisite  vision  to  be 
beheld  as  something  sacred  in  the  soft  pale  light  of 
the  moon. 

The  entrance  of  the  servant  coming  to  shut  up  the 
house  for  the  night  aroused  her.  She  rose  with  a  little 
shiver,  slightly  chilled  in  her  thin  dress,  and  passed  her 
hand  over  her  eyes  as  if  to  clear  them  from  the  dream 
and  focus  them  to  the  unchanging  aspect  of  accustomed 
things.  A  clock  in  a  corner  struck  the  half  hour  after 
eleven.  She  drew  a  long  breath  that  ended  in  an  odd 
little  sigh,  and  went  up  to  her  bedroom.  When  she 
had  dismissed  her  maid,  she  stood  before  the  mirror 
regarding  herself  with  a  woman's  piteous  hope  that  the 
inevitable  had  not  happened.  She  peered  closely  and 
anxiously.  But  the  lines  were  there  —  very,  very  faint 
—  but  there  all  the  same,  across  the  forehead,  below  the 
tyes,  down  the  upper  lip  and  at  the  corners  of  the  lips, 
all  ready  to  deepen,  with  fatigue  or  illness  or  deep  grief, 
into  accusing  signs  of  an  age  greater  by  several  years 
/han  that  of  the  lad  asleep  beneath  her  roof.  She 
turned  away  very  sadly.  At  a  further  distance  she 
regarded  herself  again  j  and  then  she  could  see  nothing 
but  a  fair  and  stately  woman  whose  light  brown  hair 
waved  royally  over  her  brow,  whose  hazel  eyes  looked 
with  undimmed  serenity  out  of  a  high-bred,  delicate  face 
that  still  held  the  unmistakable  soft  contour  of  youth, 
whose  lips,  parted  in  a  smile  of  relief,  were  still  fresh 
and  firm.  She  took  what  comfort  she  could  from  the 
sight  and  went  to  bed. 

Waking   in   the  morning,  she  suddenly   remembered 

221 


The  Usurper 

and  flushed  hot  with  shame.  She  rose  with  the  proud 
resolve  to  dismiss  such  thoughts  from  her  mind.  They 
were  neither  wise  nor  womanly,  she  told  herself.  What- 
ever place  Bunny  occupied  in  her  inmost  heart,  he 
should  sit  there  unrecognised  and  unwitting.  She 
would  be  to  him  what  she  always  had  been.  Things 
that  looked  dreamy  and  poetical  in  the  moonshine 
glared  somewhat  nakedly  beneath  the  sun.  So  her 
cheek  was  still  hot  when  she  met  Bunny.  But  she 
felt  secure.  In  pride  of  her  Lady  Alicia  Harden-ship 
she  disdained  flight  from  temptation.  She  looked  it 
courageously,  and,  as  far  as  imperiousness  of  will  went, 
scornfully,  in  the  face.  But  it  was  very  sweet. 

Convalescence  progressed.  Bunny  drove  out  with 
the  two  ladies,  occupying  the  place  of  honour,  Lady 
Luxmoore  by  his  side  and  Alicia  with  her  back  to 
the  horses.  Now  and  again,  on  these  drives,  they 
would  stop  at  a  neighbour's  house,  and  Bunny  would 
hold  a  reception  in  the  carriage.  He  found  himself  to 
be  a  personage,  gradually  grew  familiar  with  the  idea, 
and  Alicia  noted  with  satisfaction  that  it  began  to 
give  him  pleasure.  He  regained  his  interest  in  litera- 
ture. This  too  Alicia  noted,  and  any  book  he  evinced 
a  desire  to  consult  found  itself  the  next  day  in  the 
Greybrooke  library.  He  was  surrounded  by  news- 
papers and  reviews,  and  concerned  himself  with  the 
affairs  of  the  world.  Soon  he  was  able  to  walk  a  little 
without  support,  although  somewhat  bent  from  his 
wound,  and  Alicia  watched  his  progress  with  a  mother's 
admiration  of  the  early  tottering  steps  of  her  first-born. 

222 


The  Usurper 

His  favourite  seat  in  the  garden  was  in  a  sheltered 
corner  behind  two  large  rhododendrons,  hidden  from 
the  house  by  the  shrubbery.  A  high  box  hedge,  with 
a  gate  in  it,  ran  a  few  yards  away  the  length  of  the 
garden  and  separated  it  from  the  kitchen  garden  and 
greenhouses.  In  front  of  him  was  the  high  road, 
screened  by  an  ivy-covered  wall,  above  which  towered 
the  elm-trees.  From  the  long  Indian  chair  in  which 
he  sat,  he  could  see  nothing  round  about  but  green, 
and  above,  the  mild  blue  English  sky  ;  and  the  green 
English  turf  was  at  his  feet.  He  would  sit  here  for 
hours  with  his  books  or  his  thoughts,  content  to  be 
alone,  but  welcoming  with  his  smile  Alicia  when  she 
appeared  to  him  from  behind  the  rhododendrons,  work- 
basket  and  camp-stool  in  hand.  No  other  country  but 
England  could  produce  such  a  spot,  he  said;  that  com- 
bination of  utter  restfulness  with  rich  warm  life.  It 
was  like  Alicia  herself.  She  expressed  in  terms  of 
womanhood  what  the  green  corner  expressed  in  terms 
of  nature,  —  the  peculiar  boon  of  England.  When  she 
was  there  woman  and  nature  were  complementary. 
The  resultant  unity  was  England's  heart's  self. 

"  Do  you  love  all  that  is  English  so  much,  then  ?  " 
she  asked  after  one  of  these  rhapsodies. 

He  looked  up  at  the  sky  for  some  time  without 
answering.  She  watched  his  face  and  saw  that  he 
had  grown  older,  immeasurably  older.  And  she  did 
not  know  whether  to  be  glad  or  sorry. 

"  I  ran  after  false  gods,"  he  said  in  a  changed  voice, 
"  and  they  turned  into  devils,  and  I  went  out  to  fight 

223 


The  Usurper 

them.  It  was  n't  love  of  England  that  drove  me 
into  the  army.  I  tried  to  delude  myself  into  the  belief 
that  it  was  ;  but  it  was  n't.  There  was  a  man  in 
my  company,  a  Devonshire  man.  The  only  man  I 
disliked,  God  forgive  me.  I  thought  him  an  awful 
blackguard.  Perhaps  he  was.  But  one  day  we  were 
attacking  a  position,  and  he  got  hit.  He  fell  down, 
picked  himself  up  and  waved  his  rifle  and  cursed. 
Then  he  fell  down  again  arid  the  blood  came  out  of  his 
mouth.  I  was  near  him.  I  propped  up  his  head  on  my 
knee  and  loosened  his  collar.  He  turned  up  his  face  and 
lifted  his  arm.  c  England  's  bloody  well  good  enough  to 
die  for,  isn't  it?'  he  said — those  were  his  words — then 
his  whole  body  shuddered  and  he  collapsed,  dead." 

He  paused  for  a  moment,  still  looking,  with  set  face, 
upwards  at  the  sky.  Alicia  was  speechless. 

u  I  learned  it  then,  and  when  I  was  knocked  over  I 
knew  it  to  be  true.  My  God,  how  I  yearned  for 
England  !  The  old  West  Country  where  I  was  born. 
I  would  have  died  fifty  times  for  her.  And  when  I  came 
home,  she  took  me  in  her  arms  and  nursed  me  on  her 
bosom.  She  was  my  mother  and  she  gave  me  speech, 
—  the  grandest,  holiest  speech  the  world  has  known. 
The  All-Mother  of  those  that  speak  it  the  wide  world 
over.  If  a  miracle  could  happen  and  I  were  strong  and 
well  to-morrow,  I  would  go  out  again.  This  time  for 
the  real  thing." 

"  I  am  glad  you  can't,"  said  Alicia.  u  You  have  other 
work  for  England  —  which  only  you  can  do.  Besides, 
Bunny  dear,  I  should  n't  let  you." 

224 


The  Usurper 

"  You  would  let  me,"  replied  Bunny,  ignoring  the 
first  half  of  her  remark,  and  looking  full  at  her  out  of 
his  dark  eyes  which  illness  had  rendered  very  bright. 
"  You  are  too  thoroughbred  an  Englishwoman  to  do 
otherwise.  The  more  you  cared  for  me,  the  bigger 
sacrifice  would  you  be  willing  to  make." 

She  did  not  reply.  Not  much  advantage  could  be 
derived  from  argument  on  impossible  premises.  England 
was  less  to  her  than  the  young  warrior  who  spoke  with 
such  fine  frenzy  of  patriotism.  She  also  felt  an  irrational 
jealousy  of  England,  which  at  the  same  time  magnified 
Bunny  to  heroical  proportions.  The  story  of  the  dead 
Devonian  gripped  her.  She  glanced  at  Bunny's  knees 
where  the  man's  head  had  lain,  and  into  Bunny's  eyes 
which  had  seen  death  so  near.  It  was  well  that  he  was 
safe  at  home,  she  thought. 

This  was  one  of  the  rare  occasions  on  which  he  spoke 
of  his  fighting  experiences.  It  excited  and  exhausted 
him.  To  his  sensitive  temperament  war  had  meant 
orgies  of  horror.  He  had  sung  of  life  in  its  fulness  and 
glory,  had  regarded  the  idea  of  death  with  passionate 
resentment.  War  had  merely  familiarised  his  nerves 
with  peril  which  he  had  faced  like  many  thousands  of 
brave  and  commonplace  comrades.  But  the  bright  spirit 
insistent  on  life  had  grown  deadly  sick  at  the  slaughter 
and  disease.  Even  now  in  the  peaceful  garden  he  could 
not  free  himself  from  the  nightmare.  He  shrank  from 
speaking  of  it.  His  infrequent  allusions  came  from  the 
depths.  The  tumult  of  his  nature  had  not  been  quelled 
but  diverted  into  a  fervour  of  patriotism.  In  spite  of 
15  225 


The  Usurper 

the  hourly  crucifixion  that  active  warfare  inflicted  on  his 
hypersensitiveness,  his  readiness  to  go  back,  did  his  bodily 
condition  allow,  was  sober  yet  passionate  truth.  But  he 
knew  that  the  aspiration  was  vain.  His  brief  fighting 
career  had  closed.  Only  the  lapse  of  easeful  years  could 
restore  him  to  the  soundness  of  wind  and  limb  with 
which  he  had  shot  over  the  Greybrooke  stubble  not 
twelve  months  before.  Other  desires  had  failed,  and 
when  he  did  not,  in  dark  moods,  feel  himself  to  be  a 
cumberer  of  the  earth,  he  was  content  to  sit  among  his 
English  greenery,  not  seeking  to  pass  the  time,  but  let- 
ting the  time  pass  him.  He  was  happiest  when  the 
discussion  of  some  light  topic  stirred  his  quaint  humour 
and  excited  him  to  his  old  c>oyish  talk. 

Alicia  did  not  reply.  After  a  while  she  gathered  her 
work  and  scissors  and  reel  of  thread  from  her  lap,  and 
thrusting  them  into  her  little  work-basket,  rose  and  bent 
slightly  over  his  chair. 

"  Tired,  Bunny  ?  " 

He  smiled  up  at  her  and  shook  his  head. 

"  I  see  that  you  are,"  she  said  in  mild  reproach.  "  You 
must  n't  talk  so  vehemently.  It 's  bad  for  you." 

He  took  her  hand,  held  it,  kissed  it  without  a  word. 
Released,  she  passed  it  lightly  over  his  hair  and  went 
away  through  the  green  door  in  the  box  hedge. 

Bunny  lay  back  in  his  chair  and  looked  wistfully  at 
the  tops  of  the  elm-trees. 


226 


CHAPTER   XVII 

CUD  BY  returned  from  a  reluctant  holiday  in  Switz- 
erland, whither  Jasper  had  sent  him,  and  immedi- 
ately set  to  work  to  drive  his  beloved  chief  out  of  London. 
He  needed  rest,  he  needed  country  air,  he  needed  fatten- 
ing on  the  bread  of  idleness,  said  Cudby.  He  was  a 
spectre,  an  elf-skin,  a  dried-neat's  tongue,  a  lean  and 
envious  Casca,  a  Picture  of  Nobody,  a  whole  catalogue 
of  Shakespearian  synonyms  for  the  attenuated  human. 
By  dint  of  sheer  worry  Cudby  prevailed  upon  him  to 
consider  the  question  seriously.  His  heavy  year's  work 
had  told  upon  him.  During  the  session  he  had  exhausted 
himself  in  trying  to  stir  a  languid  government.  The 
government  would  not  be  moved.  He  saw  a  dissolution 
ahead,  —  a  new  government  in  power  smilingly  repudi- 
ating the  pledges  of  its  predecessor.  He  found  himself 
striving  to  no  purpose,  and,  like  most  obstinate  folk,  strove 
all  the  more.  To  attune  the  fierce  Imperial  note  with 
the  passionate  cry  for  home  reform  and  convey  the  chord 
as  harmonious  to  government  and  constituency  taxed  his 
energies,  kept  him  on  continuous  nervous  strain.  Of 
Wickens,  the  North  Ham  butcher,  he  had  made  a  deadly 
enemy.  He  had  attacked  the  rights  of  property,  which 
Wickens  as  an  Englishman  held  sacred,  inasmuch  as  he 
had  examined  the  rookeries  out  of  which  the  ex-Mayor 
reaped  a  golden  harvest,  and  had  found  that  he  had  leased 

227 


The  Usurper 

the  property  at  a  moderate  sum  from  a  careless  landlord 
and  levied  inordinate  rents  by  oppressive  means.  The 
filth,  squalor,  and  tyranny  justified  Jasper's  original  indig- 
nation. He  bought  the  freehold  at  a  high  figure  from  a 
delighted  landlord,  found  a  clause  in  the  lease  which 
made  it,  under  certain  conditions,  terminable  at  six 
months,  and  gave  Wickens  the  necessary  notice. 
Wickens,  having  been  previously  warned  not  unkindly 
by  Jasper  to  mend  both  his  manner  of  dealing  with  his 
tenants  and  the  crazy  tenements  in  which  they  dwelt, 
had  devoted  himself  to  eternal  perdition  if  any  plutocrat 
on  earth  should  interfere  with  his  business.  He  was 
furious,  and  went  up  and  down  North  Ham  cursing 
Jasper  by  all  his  gods.  From  a  respectable  Liberal  he 
became  an  inflammatory  Radical.  The  insolence  of 
wealth,  the  lickspittle  slavery  of  the  constituency  that 
cringed  to  it,  the  mean,  underhand  methods  of  Jasper 
Vellacot,  M.P.,  were  themes  on  which  he  expended  much 
eloquence.  He  contested  the  point  in  the  lease  that  gave 
Jasper  determining  powers.  Jasper  smiled  wryly,  and 
producing  a  schedule  of  rents  and  executions  duly  attested, 
enquired  whether  an  ex-mayor  of  North  Ham  would  care 
to  have  it  made  public  in  a  court  of  justice.  So  he 
triumphed  over  the  ungodliness  of  Wickens  towards  his 
tenants,  but  he  found  it  hard  to  arrest  a  waning  popularity 
in  his  constituency. 

One  day,  having  to  run  down  to  North  Ham  to 
attend  a  Board  meeting  of  his  hospital,  he  came  across 
Burke  and  Wickens  coming  amicably  together  out  of  a 
public-house  in  the  High  Street.  He  summoned  Burke 

228 


The  Usurper 

with  a  nod,  taking  no  notice  of  the  butcher,  who  glared 
and  sauntered  off. 

"  Why  are  you  here  ?  "  asked  Jasper. 

u  I  left  my  umbrella  at  the  George,  where  you  sent 
me  to  Major  Sparling  last  Monday,  and  I  thought  I 
would  come  and  get  it." 

u  What  are  you  hobnobbing  with  that  brute  for  ?  " 

u  At  the  mines,  when  you  wanted  to  serve  your  friend, 
you  went  and  stood  drinks  to  his  enemies,"  replied 
Burke,  with  his  furtive  glance. 

Jasper's  eyebrows  beetled  over  a  cavern  from  the 
depths  of  which  his  eyes  pierced.  But  Burke's  pallid 
features  remained  impassive.  Jasper,  who,  since  the 
night  when  he  had  discovered  Burke  in  his  dining-room, 
had  treated  him  with  unwearying  kindness  and  con- 
sideration, laid  his  hand  on  his  arm. 

"  I  thank  you  for  wishing  to  serve  my  interests, 
Burke,"  he  said,  not  without  irony.  u  But  not  in  that 
way.  The  straight  road 's  the  best,  man.  As  you  're 
here,  come  to  the  Board  meeting  with  me  and  take 
some  notes.  We  '11  go  back  together." 

But  Jasper  did  not  forget  the  incident.  It  added  one 
more  to  his  many  preoccupations.  He  did  not  believe 
Burke's  ingenuous  explanation.  Why  should  Burke  and 
Wickens  be  on  boon-companion  terms  ?  "Arcades 
ambo  —  blackguards  both,"  said  Cudby.  Whereupon 
Jasper  replied  that  Cudby  was  developing  a  singular  gift 
of  ineptitude.  He  had  scarcely  forgiven  the  little  man 
for  the  amazing  folly  of  his  pronouncement  concerning 
Lady  Alicia  and  Bunny. 

229 


The  Usurper 

He  was  overdone  with  incessant  and  tremendous 
work.  There  had  been  difficulties  with  the  forgotten 
cotton-mill  in  Lancashire  ;  the  establishment  of  the  con- 
valescent homes  had  required  endless  attention  to  detail ; 
he  had  devoted  much  labour  to  procuring  parliamentary 
powers  for  the  purchase  of  the  land  on  behalf  of  the 
Tanners  Company ;  he  had  attended  to  the  current 
business  connected  with  all  his  philanthropic  schemes  ; 
he  had  borne  the  usual  weight  of  his  industrial  and 
financial  enterprises.  At  last,  when  Lady  Alicia  came 
to  the  support  of  Cudby  and  preached  the  necessity  of 
absolute  rest  and  change,  he  yielded.  Where  should 
he  go  ?  Alicia  came  with  one  of  her  serene  solutions. 
Her  neighbours,  the  Widdringtons,  were  dying  to  get  a 
summer  tenant  for  their  house.  Why  should  n't  Jasper 
take  it  ?  It  would  be  delightful  to  have  him  within 
call.  Bunny  started  an  enthusiastic  huzzahing  which 
shot  a  spasm  of  pain  through  his  crippled  body,  and  so 
he  ended  with  a  u  Do  come,  old  chap,"  which  was  rather 
pitiful  to  hear. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Jasper,  u  I  will  come  down. 
Nowhere  should  I  feel  happier.  But  not  at  the 
Widdringtons'." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  asked  Alicia. 

"  It 's  far  too  swagger,"  said  Jasper,  lightly.  "  I  '11 
find  a  place  to  suit  me." 

He  happened  to  be  spending  the  week  end  at  Grey- 
brooke.  It  was  a  Saturday  afternoon.  With  charac- 
teristic promptness  he  strolled  down  the  high  road  to 
a  cottage  standing  back  in  its  own  garden,  which  had 

230 


The  Usurper 

taken  his  fancy,  and  rented  a  couple  of  rooms  for  a 
month.  Then  he  came  back  and  told  Alicia  what  he 
had  done.  She  raised  protesting  hands.  Mrs.  Bell  was 
a  most  respectable  widow-woman,  but  who  would  do 
his  cooking  ? 

"  The  respectable  widow-woman,  of  course,"  said 
Jasper. 

"  But  she  has  never  cooked  anything  beyond  bacon 
and  dumplings  all  her  life,  my  dear  Jasper." 

"  Then  she  ought  to  be  able  to  cook  them  to  per- 
fection," said  he. 

"  But  she  will  kill  you  with  anything  else." 

Said  Jasper,  "  I  have  survived  many  years  of 
my  own  cooking,  and  I  defy  any  other  person's  to 
harm  me." 

Alicia  gave  him  up.  Why  a  millionaire  should  choose 
to  live  in  cottage  lodgings  with  a  rough  peasant  to  do 
for  him,  like  any  bank  clerk  of  slender  means,  she  could 
not  understand.  For  the  matter  of  that,  why  did  he 
reside  in  Gower  Street,  without  a  valet,  without  even 
a  butler  or  footman,  without  horse  or  carriage  of  any 
sort,  without  beautiful  furniture  or  pictures  or  engrav- 
ings, the  things  that  make  smooth  and  sweet  the  life 
of  a  rich  man  ?  It  was  neither  meanness,  nor  affecta- 
tion, nor  (by  this  time)  ignorance.  Bunny  explained 
that  it  was  incurable  simplicity  ;  at  present  he  must  be 
passing  through  an  acute  phase.  Cudby,  who  knew 
his  Jasper,  told  him  that  he  swallowed  a  kingdom,  but 
strained  at  a  decent  bedroom  in  the  palace.  But  Lady 
Alicia,  not  having  the  advantage  of  Cudby's  frankness, 

231 


The  Usurper 

accepted  Bunny's  explanation  and  abandoned  Jasper 
to  his  fate  and  the  respectable  widow  woman. 

He  had  a  long  talk  with  Bunny  the  next  morning. 
The  ladies  had  gone  to  church.  It  was  rainy,  and 
Bunny  sat  in  the  cosily  furnished  library  that  had  been 
given  over  to  his  particular  use.  Jasper  produced  an 
array  of  documents  and  notebooks.  He  was  going  to 
account  to  Bunny  for  his  stewardship.  Bunny  waved 
him  away.  If  there  was  one  thing  he  hated  more  than 
pounds,  it  was  shillings,  and  than  shillings,  pence.  Why 
could  n't  he  be  left  alone  with  his  lotus  ?  He  had  n't 
got  half  through  it  yet. 

u  My  son,"  said  Jasper,  "  this  is  a  commercial  world, 
and  you  '11  find  lotus  quoted  on  the  market  at  so  much 
a  peck.  It 's  right  for  you  to  see  how  much  of  it  you 
can  afford.  Here 's  a  statement  of  your  account  with 
the  house  of  Jasper  Vellacot,  up  to  date.  Here 's  a 
banker's  pass-book  with  the  first  entry  on  the  credit 
side,  and  here 's  a  brand-new  cheque  book." 

"  What  beastly-looking  things  !  "  said  Bunny.  But 
he  opened  the  pass-book.  Then  he  glanced  up,  with  a 
sudden  flush  in  his  pale  cheeks. 

tc  It 's  damned  good  of  you,  Jasper.  But  you  know  I 
can't  accept  all  this.  You  must  n't  do  it." 

u  I  'm  not  giving  you  anything,  you  young  idiot," 
cried  Jasper,  somewhat  tartly.  "  Look  at  the  statement 
and  the  vouchers." 

Bunny  obeyed,  and  then  suddenly  his  hatred  of  pounds, 
shillings  and  pence  vanished  with  amazing  rapidity. 

"  All  this  is  really  mine  ?  Out  of  the  poems  and 
232 


The  Usurper 

the  play  ?  I  've  never  had  so  much  money  all  at  once 
in  my  life.  It 's  because  you  've  had  to  do  with  it. 
You  make  a  clutch  at  thin  air  like  a  conjurer  and 
extract  from  it  a  fistful  of  sovereigns.  I  wish  I  were 
you." 

"  Don't,  sonny,"  said  Jasper.  "  This  same  conjurer 
business  is  the  curse  of  my  life." 

He  shifted  quickly  from  a  subject  ever  perturbing, 
and  went  into  details  of  the  account.  Thence  he  passed 
to  Bunny's  fame,  to  the  glad  future  before  him  when 
he  should  set  to  work  again.  Bunny  shook  his  head; 
gradually  his  face  clouded  over.  The  melancholy 
dawned  drearily  in  his  eyes. 

"  I  shall  be  no  good  again,"  said  he.  "  I  have  told 
you  so  before." 

Jasper  rose  to  get  a  match  for  his  pipe  from  the 
mantel-piece.  Having  lit  it,  he  remained  standing. 

"  My  dear  fellow,  you  are  young  —  a  boy  still.  You 
have  never  expressed  yourself  as  a  man." 

"  It 's  because  I  've  grown  into  a  man  that  I  can't 
express  myself.  The  boy's  heart  has  been  seared  out 
of  me." 

"  The  foolishness  has  been  burned  away,  but  the  gold 
remains." 

Bunny  clasped  his  head  with  both  hands. 

"  Oh,  God,  man  !  I  've  been  through  the  Valley  of 
the  Shadow  of  Death.  I  've  seen  life  in  its  utter  naked- 
ness. A  woman  I  loved  tore  my  heart  to  bits  and 
threw  them  in  my  face.  I  have  bayonetted  through  the 
body  a  fresh  blue-eyed  lad  whom  I  could  have  loved 

233 


The  Usurper 

like  a  brother  —  I    see  his   lips  now.     Oh  —  what    is 
the  good  of  poetry  ?  " 

"  She  came  to  Great  Coram  Street  to  enquire  for 
you,  a  day  or  two  after  you  left,"  said  Jasper,  referring 
to  the  heart-rending  woman.  "  I  think  you  ought  to 
know  that.  Perhaps  she  was  n't  as  bad  as  you  fancy. 
There  's  not  one  of  us  that  is  n't  a  miserable  sinner 
somewhere,  wanting  a  lot  of  allowances  made  for 
him." 

Bunny  gazed  straight  ahead  and  worked  his  lips. 

"  Do  you  know  anything  about  her  ?  "  he  asked  in 
a  low  voice,  after  a  pause. 

"Nothing  at  all.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  have  kept  an  eye 
on  her.  But,"  with  a  sigh,  "  one  can't  do  everything." 

"  You  've  done  superhuman  things  for  me.  You  did 
wisely  to  let  her  go  into  the  Ewigkeit.  I  never  want 
to  hear  of  her  again." 

A  smile  of  great  sadness  and  pity  flickered  over  the 
older  man's  face  as  he  watched  the  boy's  profile.  The 
former  question,  the  latter  disclaimer,  the  tone  and 
the  manner  were  betrayals.  He  congratulated  himself 
that  he  had  lost  sight  of  Vittoria,  hoped  that  she  lay 
hidden  as  deeply  as  Naples  could  hide  her ;  in  the  depths 
of  Vesuvius  for  choice.  Poor  lad  ! 

He  took  a  few  steps  about  the  room.  They  brought 
him  to  a  writing-table  on  which  some  characteristic 
sheets  lay  scattered.  He  seized  upon  one. 

"  Hallo,  my  young  friend,"  he  cried  in  his  cheery  way. 
u  You  have  been  writing  poetry.  Why  deceive  us  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  said  Bunny,  turning  round  wearily.     u  That 's 
234 


The  Usurper 

not  poetry.  It 's  doggerel  verse.  I  've  got  to  write 
it  to  keep  the  thing  off  my  nerves." 

Jasper  collected  the  sheets,  read  the  verses,  twice, 
three  times  over.  Then  holding  them  in  his  hand,  he 
came  and  stood  before  Bunny,  regarding  with  a  kind  of 
awe  the  being  whom  he  had  just  been  rating,  patronis- 
ing, pitying.  His  voice  quavered  a  little  as  he  spoke. 

"  You  are  not  the  only  man  that  has  gone  through  the 
Valley  of  the  Shadow,"  said  he,  u  but  you  are  the  only 
man  living  who  can  tell  us  what  he  has  seen  there." 

"  It 's  worth  nothing,"  said  Bunny.  "  I  could  go  on 
turning  out  that  stuff  for  ever." 

"  But,  dear  lad,"  said  Jasper,  bending  down  and  laying 
both  hands  on  the  back  of  the  chair,  by  Bunny's  head, 
"  these  are  the  greatest  lines  you  've  written.  I  don't 
know  much  about  poetry,  but  I  'm  learning  more  than  I 
used,  and  I  know  these  are  great.  There  are  tears  in 
it,  and  —  "  he  paused  for  a  word,  seeking  and  suddenly 
rinding  an  inspiration,  "and  tears  in  the  major  key  — 
anyone  can  be  pathetic  in  the  minor." 

"  Do  you  know,  Jasper,"  said  Bunny,  with  one  of  his 
unexpected  and  irresistible  changes  of  mood,  "you  are 
a  bit  of  a  poet  yourself."  He  laughed  and  stretched 
himself.  "  Put  the  silly  stuff  away  with  all  these 
papers  and  documents  and  let  us  talk  sense." 

Jasper  put  the  verses  into  his  pocket.  "  They  shall 
appear  on  Tuesday  morning,"  said  he. 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  man,  not  in  that  state !  "  cried 
the  author,  in  alarm.  "  I  can't  print  work  like  that  over 
my  signature.  I  must  file  and  polish.  Do  you  think 

235 


The  Usurper 

a  poem  comes  out  dollop !  like  an  egg  out  of  a  hen  ? 
There  are  two  lines  that  are  not  even  rhymed." 

"  If  I  give  them  back  you  will  polish  them  for  im- 
mediate publication  ?  " 

"  If  it  will  make  you  any  the  happier,"  said  Bunny. 

u  Good,"  laughed  Jasper.  "  Things  are  getting  more 
healthy." 

The  ladies  came  in  from  church,  Alicia  a  fragrant 
vision  in  heliotrope.  They  stayed  a  few  minutes  in  the 
library  enquiring  after  the  invalid,  then  returned  to 
prepare  for  lunch.  Jasper  followed  Alicia  into  the  hall, 
thrust  the  verses  into  her  hand. 

u  Bunny  's  writing  again." 

A  light  shone  in  Alicia's  eyes. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad." 

She  read  the  verses,  handed  them  back,  with  an  air 
of  disappointment. 

"  They  are  so  sad.  I  wish  he  could  write  of  brighter 
things." 

u  But  they  are  very  beautiful." 

"  Yes,  they  are  beautiful,"  she  said  with  a  sigh  in  her 
voice.  u  All  he  writes  is  beautiful.  But  —  " 

She  went  upstairs  without  finishing  the  sentence. 
Jasper  turned  into  the  garden,  the  rain  having  ceased, 
and  pondered  over  the  incomprehensible  feminine.  It 
was  the  one  flaw  in  his  perfect  divinity  that  she  did 
not  appreciate  Bunny's  best  work.  It  brought  her  down 
from  lofty  solitudes  to  the  warm  earth.  She  was  the 
more  human  and  lovable  for  the  fallibility.  Just  as  a 
musician  breaks  a  too  rhythmic  flow  of  cadences  with 

236 


The  Usurper 

a  discord,  or  a  painter  brings  up  the  tone  of  a  too  har- 
monious scheme  with  a  sudden  dash  of  conflicting 
colour,  so  did  the  Contriver  of  Alicia  work  this  flaw 
into  her  nature.  Of  course,  to  appreciate  all  this,  you 
must  be  respectively  either  a  musician  or  a  painter  or 
in  love  with  Alicia. 

Jasper  returned  to  town  to  make  preparations  for  his 
approaching  holiday.  He  looked  forward  to  it  with 
boyish  impatience.  It  would  be  respite  from  intolerable 
strain.  It  would  be  in  itself  great  happiness.  As  he 
sat  one  breathless  evening  by  his  open  window,  with 
weary  mind  and  jaded  body,  picturing  for  his  comfort 
the  restful  Hertfordshire  meadows  and  the  restful 
woman  who  dwelt  among  them,  the  sense  of  his  life's 
loneliness  weighed  heavily  upon  him.  Of  all  the  world's 
creatures  there  were  only  three  whom  he  held  in  any 
way  dear,  —  Cudby,  bound  by  imperishable  memories  and 
devoted  service,  and  those  two  in  Hertfordshire,  bound 
to  him  by  spurious  ties  of  blood.  In  spite  of  the  ache 
of  the  eternal  lie  and  in  spite  of  the  ache  of  his  eternal 
love  for  Alicia,  he  had  grown  to  regard  those  two 
almost  as  his  own  people,  and  he  passionately  craved 
their  affection.  If  those  two,  discovering  the  lie,  were 
to  draw  away  from  him,  he  would  have  but  one  solitary 
friend  on  earth.  This  indeed  had  been  his  fate  two 
years  ago,  and  he  had  not  complained.  It  scarcely 
mattered  then.  But  now  it  would  be  vastly  different. 
The  two  years  had  meant  much  to  him.  With  all  their 
pain  they  contained  the  only  happiness  he  had  known 
in  his  life. 

237 


The  Usurper 

He  longed  for  Greybrooke.  But  before  freedom 
came  he  must  pay  a  worrying  visit  to  the  cotton  mill 
in  Lancashire.  The  policy  of  the  titular  owners,  now 
the  managers,  did  not  accord  with  Jasper's  ideas,  which 
they  deprecated  as  quixotic.  To  be  just  he  felt  it 
necessary  to  see  things  with  his  own  eyes.  On  Thurs- 
day he  went  down.  He  was  to  return  on  Friday  and 
start  on  Saturday  morning  for  his  holiday. 

Now  on  Thursday  night,  Cudby,  whose  sleep  was 
none  of  the  best,  was  aroused  from  his  perusal  in  bed 
of  Schlegel's  "  Shakespearean  Characters "  by  strange 
sounds  in  the  room  below,  which  was  Jasper's  bed- 
room. His  watch  marked  two  o'clock.  After  reflect- 
ing for  some  moments  on  the  improbability  of  Jasper 
returning  from  Lancashire  like  a  thief  in  the  night, 
he  rose  and  thrusting  his  gold  eyeglass  into  his  eye 
and  looking  more  like  some  strange  bird  than  ever, 
crept  quietly  downstairs.  To  his  surprise  Jasper's 
door  was  open  and  a  stream  of  light  fell  athwart  the 
landing.  It  must  be  Jasper.  He  walked  carelessly  in. 
But  on  the  threshold  he  saw  so  strange  a  sight  that 
he  checked  himself  quickly  and  shrank  back  behind  the 
door,  round  which  he  peered. 

Burke,  half  dressed,  was  standing  by  the  dressing-table, 
on  which  lay  open  an  old-fashioned  wooden  desk.  He 
appeared  in  half  profile,  beneath  the  light  of  the  sus- 
pended electric  lamp.  One  hand  clutched  his  thin  hair. 
The  other  held  up  before  him  an  old  greasy  letter-case. 
His  mouth  was  half  open,  his  eyes  set  glassily.  He 
shook  all  over.  It  was  this  melodramatic  attitude  that 

338 


The  Usurper 

arrested  Cudby.  Then  he  turned  slightly  away,  and 
what  Cudby  did  not  see  was  the  gradual  dawn  of  an 
illumination  on  the  man's  face.  Nor  did  he  see  that  the 
letter-case  had  a  "  J.  V."  in  tarnished  gilt  letters  on  the 
outside,  and  "Jasper  Vellacot "  written  within  between 
the  pockets.  Burke  swayed  to  and  fro  drunkenly. 
Then  he  restored  the  letter-case  to  the  desk,  which 
he  locked  and  replaced  carefully  on  the  shelf  whence 
he  had  taken  it,  and  reeled  out  of  the  room,  utter- 
ing inarticulate  sounds  through  chattering  teeth.  He 
brushed  by  Cudby  without  noticing  him  and  dashed 
down  the  stairs.  Then  Cudby,  turning  on  the  light 
on  the  landing,  followed  him,  and  at  the  bottom  of  the 
flight  swung  him  fiercely  round  by  the  arm.  He 
fell  back  against  the  stairs,  and  for  a  moment  or  two 
sprawled  there,  regarding  his  aggressor  with  mazed, 
half-mad  eyes. 

"  What  the  devil  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  cried 
Cudby. 

Burke  stared  about  him,  with  heaving  chest. 

"  How  did  you  come  ?  "  he  panted. 

The  man's  behaviour  was  so  extraordinary  that  it 
checked  Cudby's  righteous  indignation.  He  recovered 
his  cool  mocking  manner. 

"  I  fancy  I  'm  the  questioner,  my  friend.  Kindly 
explain  why  you  were  making  yourself  at  home  in  Mr. 
Vellacot's  bedroom  ?  " 

Burke  shook  his  head.  "  I  don't  know  anything 
about  it.  I  find  myself  here.  You  have  thrown  me 
downstairs." 

239 


The  Usurper 

He  picked  himself  up,  rubbed  his  eyes,  and  looked 
with  sullen  imperturbability  at  Cudby. 

"  I  have  been  walking  in  my  sleep,"  said  he. 

Cudby  was  staggered.  He  had  not  thought  of  this 
explanation.  Burke's  dazed  condition,  the  fact  of  his 
having  passed  him  at  the  door  without  seeing  him,  gave 
it  plausibility. 

"  Are  you  often  taken  that  way  ?  "   he  asked. 

u  Yes.     Since  that  illness  in  Australia." 

u  Ah,  that  famous  illness.  It  accounts  for  a  lot 
of  things,  does  n't  it  ?  " 

u  It  was  bush-madness.  I  suppose  you  know  what 
that  is." 

"  The  deuce  it  was,"  said  Cudby,  with  a  start. 

"There  aren't  many  who  have  pulled  through.  I 
feel  it  in  my  head  now  and  then  still  —  a  buzzing  and 
a  shivering.  Sometimes  you  think  me  drunk  and  I  'm 
not.  I  suppose  this  sleep-walking  has  got  to  do 
with  it." 

u  Why  did  n't  I  know  of  this  bush-madness  before  ?  " 
asked  Cudby. 

"  How  should  you  ?  "  retorted  Burke. 

Cudby  cursed  himself  inwardly  for  a  fool,  for  he  could 
only  have  learned  it  from  Jasper.  He  made  no  reply. 
Yet  it  was  strange  that  Jasper  had  not  specified  this 
terrible  madness  of  disorientation  as  the  cause  of  his 
three  days'  companion's  apparent  death. 

"  By  chucking  me  downstairs  when  I  was  in  that 
condition,"  said  Burke,  after  a  pause,  u  you  might 
have  sent  me  as  mad  as  a  hatter." 

240 


The  Usurper 

<c  I  'm  very  sorry,"  replied  Cudby,  u  but  if  I  catch  you 
somnambulising  in  Mr.  Vellacot's  bedroom,  I  'm  afraid  I 
shall  have  to  do  it  again.  Good-night." 

They  parted.  Cudby  went  back  to  bed  with  a  shaken 
faith  in  Burke's  turpitude.  After  bush-madness  anything 
cerebral  was  possible.  The  illness  did  account  for  a  lot 
of  things,  —  Burke's  furtive  manner,  his  suspicious  jeal- 
ousy, his  insolence  and  servility,  his  drunkenness.  Why 
should  he  not  believe  in  this  sleep-walking  ?  Perhaps, 
like  Lady  Macbeth,  Burke  had  some  cursed  spot  which 
he  tried  to  "  out "  in  somnambulistic  trance.  It  was 
more  than  probable.  At  any  rate,  he  had  not  gone  to 
Jasper's  bedroom  to  steal.  Like  a  wise  man,  Cudby 
went  to  sleep.  But  Burke  lay  awake  all  night  with 
throbbing  heart  and  brain. 


16  241 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

"  V\fHAT  wil]  be>  wil]  be>"  Sa7s  the  Italian  fatalist. 
The  intelligent  Cudby  had  seen  it  coming, 
warned  his  chief,  and,  like  many  another  prophet,  got 
snubbed  for  his  pains.  Elinor  Currey  had  also  prophe- 
sied to  her  own  undoing.  Lady  Luxmoore,  though  she 
kept  urbanely  silent,  was  aware  of  a  romance  and  of  her 
own  elderly,  vicarious  enjoyment.  In  fact,  any  reason- 
ing being,  except  Jasper,  could  have  set  up  as  an  oracle ; 
for,  given  the  circumstances,  it  was  bound  to  be. 

Why  it  should  have  happened  on  that  particular  day, 
neither  knew.  Perhaps  it  was  because  Bunny,  somewhat 
excited  by  the  immediate  success  of  his  war  poem  and 
by  the  emotional  effort  expended  on  a  second,  both  looked 
and  felt  more  tired  than  usual.  Perhaps  it  was  because 
the  August  day  enveloped  them  in  languorous  breath. 
Perhaps  he  kissed  her  hand  just  a  little  too  gratefully, 
looked  at  her  with  eyes  just  a  little  too  full  of  yearning 
after  lost  life  and  happiness;  so  that  the  woman  was 
troubled  and  spoke  things  that  she  had  hitherto  kept 
unspoken.  But  when  a  rock  has  been  imperceptibly 
undermined  into  a  state  of  unstable  equilibrium,  at  last 
the  flight  of  a  bird  may  bring  about  catastrophe. 

They  were  in  Bunny's  retreat  by  the  rhododendrons. 
They  had  been  talking  for  a  long  time.  He  had  grown 
impatient  over  his  slow  convalescence.  Then  despaired. 

242 


The  Usurper 

His  heart  was  as  sore  as  his  body,  and  he  dreaded  the 
future.  She  comforted  him  and  her  words  were  soft  and 
easeful.  By  chance  arrangement,  or  the  ironic  workings 
of  cbe  sara  sara  fatality,  her  seat  was  drawn  up  alongside 
of  his  Indian  chair,  so  that  when  she  rested  her  elbow 
on  its  long  arm  and  supported  her  chin  in  her  hand,  her 
face  was  not  so  very  far  from  his ;  and  the  woman's 
foolishness  that  trembled  on  lips  and  eyelids  had  but  a 
little  way  to  flutter. 

"  I  'm  not  a  coward,"  said  he,  "  but  it  seems  as  if  I 
had  not  the  heart  to  face  the  world  again." 

"  Why  need  you  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  must.  I  can't  live  for  ever  in  this  dear  garden  and 
in  the  kindness  of  your  dear  eyes." 

u  Why  can't  you  ?  "  she  asked  again,  in  a  tone  that 
held  but  one  signification. 

"  Do  you  mean  —  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear,"  she  said  ;   "  why  not  ?  " 

u  It  would  be  heaven,"  said  he. 

"Would  it?" 

"  Dear  heaven.  You  are  all  that  I  care  about  in  the 
whole  world." 

He  stretched  out  both  arms,  took  her  as  she  bent 
forward,  and  kissed  her.  Released,  she  averted  a  burn- 
ing face  and  swimming  eyes,  and  picked  up  the  book  that 
had  slid  from  her  lap. 

u  I  am  afraid  I  am  very  foolish,  Bunny  dear,"  she  said. 

"  You  are  —  for  taking  pity  on  a  poor  wreck  like  me." 

She  turned  round  in  quick  reproach. 

u  Don't  say  such  things.  They  hurt.  I  love  you  for 
243 


The  Usurper 

yourself.  I  can't  help  loving  you.  I  am  only  foolish 
because  —  " 

She  paused.  He  smiled,  took  her  hand.  Asked  why. 
She  drew  her  face  near  again  and  looked  at  him  wistfully. 

"  Because  I  am  too  old  for  you,  Bunny  dear." 

Tears  came.  It  was  the  young  man's  turn  for  tender- 
ness. She  obeyed  a  guiding  pressure  of  his  hand,  sat  on 
the  foot-rest  of  the  chair  and  was  brought  close  to  him, 
her  head  on  his  heart.  And  he  proved  to  Alicia,  hunger- 
ing for  conviction,  that  it  did  not  matter,  that  she  would 
for  ever  and  ever  and  ever  be  the  sweet,  fair  woman  that 
she  was  now,  and  that  he,  Bunny,  had  grown  as  old  as 
the  everlasting  hills.  She  dried  her  eyes,  adjusted  her 
hair,  and  sat  beside  him  again  and  they  talked  quietly. 
Nothing  particular  seemed  to  have  happened.  There 
had  been  no  shock,  no  sudden  opening  of  the  firmament 
disclosing  bewildering  visions  of  glory.  Spirits  had  not 
rushed  tumultuously  together  at  the  touch  of  lips.  The 
immediate  present  was  the  same  as  the  immediately  ante- 
cedent past.  The  vague  future  was  constituted  of  ease- 
ful summer  moments  like  the  present.  His  kisses 
lingered  as  things  infinitely  delicate,  such  as  she  had 
never  known  before ;  yet  no  vibrating  after-thrill  con- 
fused the  clearness  of  her  eyes,  and  no  sweet  shame  hung 
deliciously  on  her  eyelids.  A  serene  tenderness  suffused 
her  being.  A  little  sense  of  triumph  quickened  her 
pulses.  But  that  was  all.  It  was  a  day  of  the  half-gods. 
But  Alicia  was  wholly  content.  It  never  occurred  to  her 
to  enquire  what  more  there  could  be  in  life. 

They  talked  away  the  golden  August  afternoon  in 
244 


The  Usurper 

entire  peacefulness.  Lady  Luxmoore  had  taken  the  lan- 
dau in  order  to  visit  an  elderly  crony  a  dozen  miles  away. 
Jasper,  who  had  been  established  for  over  a  week  in  his 
cottage,  and  was  a  daily  visitor  at  Greybrooke,  had  gone 
off  for  a  day's  cross-country  tramp.  They  were  alone 
and  undisturbed.  A  servant  announced  tea  set  under  the 
sycamore  on  the  lawn.  They  walked  slowly  thither,  and 
it  was  with  a  sweet  sense  of  right  that  Alicia  insisted  on 
Bunny  leaning  on  her  arm. 

In  front  of  them  stretched  the  formal  terrace,  ap- 
proached from  the  lawn  by  a  stately  flight  of  steps, 
flanked  with  cleft  yews  and  planted  with  geometrical 
flower-beds ;  and  above  it  rose  the  Elizabethan  manor- 
house,  of  warm  red-brick,  spacious  and  reposeful.  Lady 
Alicia  waved  a  graceful  hand  towards  it. 

"  This  too  is  thoroughly  English,  is  n't  it?  "  she  said. 

He  acquiesced.     Then  he  added  with  a  knitted  brow : 

"  But  I  must  n't  live  on  your  money,  Alicia.  That 
would  n't  be  English  at  all." 

"  You  won't,"  she  replied.  "  As  soon  as  you  are 
well,  you  '11  make  a  fortune  by  your  plays  and  poems. 
That  is  quite  certain.  We  won't  talk  of  the  matter 
any  more.  Perhaps  it  is  well  to  speak  once,  but  it 
would  spoil  everything  to  let  money  come  between  us. 
You'll  have  quite  enough  of  your  own  to  prevent  your 
ever  having  such  feelings.  Look  how  much  you  have 
made  already.  The  Garmina  has  reached  its  twentieth 
thousand.  1  saw  it  advertised  in  last  evening's  paper. 
Promise  me,  Bunny  dear,  you'll  never  refer  to  this 
again." 


The  Usurper 

It  was  easy  to  promise  in  the  warm,  golden  haze  of 
an  August  afternoon,  and  in  the  languor  of  convales- 
cence, when  fame  was  assured  and  its  money  value 
loomed  nebulously  large  before  dreamy  and  poetical 
eyes.  Unconsciously  he  submitted  his  pride  to  the 
keeping  of  the  half-gods  that  controlled  the  day.  The 
prospect  of  the  long  untroubled  life  with  the  dear 
devoted  lady,  so  fragrant  of  heart  and  soul  and  mind  and 
body,  for  whom  he  had  always  had  a  very  deep  affec- 
tion, who  indeed  for  a  brief  season  in  his  boyhood  had 
been  his  first  extravagant  and  romantic  love,  lay  before 
him  like  a  vista  of  sweet  years  in  which  all  troublous 
things  would  be  forgotten. 

"  I  am  very  happy,  Alicia,"  he  said  after  a  long  silence. 

The  words  were  music.  "  I  will  try  to  keep  you  so 
always,"  she  replied. 

In  rising  to  go  indoors,  he  made  too  sudden  a  move- 
ment and  sat  down  with  a  little  gasp  of  pain.  She  was 
all  tenderness. 

"I  wonder  when  I  shall  get  fit  again,"  he  said. 
u  I  '11  have  to  soon,  for  I  swear  I  sha'n't  let  you  marry 
a  crock,  my  dear." 

"  I  'm  going  to  marry  whom  and  what  I  choose," 
said  Alicia,  with  a  smile. 

The  next  morning  Jasper  was  leaning  over  the  gate 
of  his  cottage  smoking  a  meditative  pipe,  just  as  he  had 
leant  over  gates  and  smoked  in  long-past  labouring  days 
on  the  other  side  of  the  world.  He  had  enjoyed  every 
moment  of  his  holiday,  was  enjoying  now  the  scented 
morning,  the  green  stretching  meadows  and  corn  lands 

246 


The  Usurper 

in  front  of  him,  and  the  easy  lounging  life  that  passed 
by  on  the  high  road.  He  had  returned  late  from  his 
tramp  the  evening  before,  and  after  his  homely  supper, 
which  he  had  eaten  with  the  good  sauce  of  hunger,  slept 
for  nine  solid  hours.  It  was  good  to  be  out  of  London, 
and  to  wander  about  in  God's  green  fields  and  sunshine. 
He  felt  already  a  new  man.  Besides,  he  had  thrown 
off  cares  and  responsibilities.  Even  Burke's  malevolent 
glance  and  peculiarly  ironical  smile  of  adieu,  when  he 
was  starting  from  Gower  Street  for  King's  Cross, 
failed  to  disturb  him.  Of  Cudby's  interview  with  the 
somnambulistic  marauder,  however,  he  knew  nothing. 
He  had  looked  so  jaded  on  his  return  from  Lancashire, 
and  was  so  schoolboyishly  happy  the  next  morning  on 
starting  for  his  holiday,  that  Cudby  had  not  the  heart  to 
add  to  his  worries  or  mar  his  pleasure  by  relating  cock 
and  bull  stories  about  Burke.  But  if  the  little  man  had 
done  so,  Jasper  would  have  associated  them  with  other 
queer  proceedings  on  Burke's  part  and  have  drawn 
certain  definite  conclusions.  The  eternal  shadow  of 
the  man  would  have  darkened  his  holiday,  and  he  would 
not  have  been  leaning  over  the  gate  and  smoking  his 
pipe  this  morning  with  such  placid  enjoyment. 

He  was  meditatively  watching  the  hind  quarters  of 
some  cows  in  charge  of  a  boy  disappear  at  a  turn  of 
the  road,  and  recalling  past  days  when  barefoot  and 
ragged  and  hatless  he  himself  had  herded  cattle,  when  a 
familiar  "  Good-morning "  made  him  turn  round  and 
behold  Lady  Alicia.  She  wore  a  coarse  straw  hat  with 
yellow  roses  under  the  brim  against  her  hair  and  a  pale 

247 


The  Usurper 

straw-coloured  morning  dress  and  country  gauntlets. 
On  her  arm  was  slung  a  little  empty  basket.  She 
explained  that  she  had  been  administering  jellies  to  the 
sick  and  had  passed  the  gate  twenty  minutes  before. 
He  had  not  been  there.  Now  she  was  going  home. 
He  had  better  walk  up  with  her. 

"  And  how  is  the  invalid  ?  "  he  asked,  as  they  strolled 
along  the  high  road. 

"  He  is  very  happy  this  morning,"  she  replied  de- 
murely. 

"  So  he  ought  to  be.  Every  one  ought  to  be  happy 
on  a  morning  like  this.  *  God's  in  His  Heaven,  All 's 
right  with  the  world/ ' 

She  glanced  up  at  him  shyly.  He  noticed  a  height- 
ened colour  on  her  cheek. 

"  It  is  right  with  me,"  she  said.  Then  after  a  pause 
she  added,  "  Something  has  happened.  I  ought  to  tell 
you,  Jasper." 

He  looked  at  her  with  smiling  enquiry. 

"  I  wish  you  could  guess,"  she  said  softly. 

She  slid  her  gloved  hand  beneath  his  arm.  The  tone 
and  act  were  so  full  of  tenderness  that  a  mad  thought 
crossed  his  mind  and  his  heart  began  to  beat.  Had  she 
in  some  mysterious  manner  discovered  his  love  for  her 
and  was  this  a  sweet  confession  ?  A  man  even  tragi- 
cally in  love  can  be  wrought  at  moments  to  sublime 
idiocy. 

"  Well,  if  you  won't  guess,  I  must  tell  you.  You 
are  our  dearest  friend.  Bunny  and  I  are  very  happy. 
We  are  to  be  married  as  soon  as  he  gets  well." 

248 


The  Usurper 

He  moved  instinctively  away  from  her  and  halted. 
Her  hand  dropped  from  his  arm.  For  two  or  three 
endless  seconds  he  looked  at  her  stupidly.  Then  re- 
covering himself  with  an  effort,  he  broke  into  a  laugh 
and  said  aimlessly,  — 

"  I  should  never  have  guessed  that.  I  was  thinking 
of  something  else." 

"  But  you  are  glad,  are  n't  you  ?  " 

"  Oh  yes.  Very  glad.  I  hope  for  your  happiness. 
I  have  no  one  else  on  earth  to  love  but  you  two.  It  is 
the  best  thing  that  could  have  happened." 

He  scarcely  knew  what  he  was  saying.  God  had 
suddenly  abandoned  His  Heaven  and  the  world  had 
fallen  into  chaos.  Till  that  moment  when  she  was 
irretrievably  snatched  from  him  he  had  not  realised 
how  furiously  he  desired  her.  The  struggle  in  the 
heart  of  this  man  of  deep  passions  was  fierce  pain. 
Yet  of  this  the  woman,  looking  at  his  grave,  rugged 
face,  knew  or  suspected  nothing.  They  walked  on 
a  few  steps  in  silence.  And  once  more  Jasper  crushed 
down  madness  and  folly  and  grasped  life  grimly  and 
conquered. 

"  I  had  no  idea  it  was  like  that  between  you,"  he 
said.  u  Not  the  faintest  idea.  You  must  forgive 
my  surprise,  Alicia,  and  accept  all  my  warmest  good 
wishes." 

He  smiled  very  kindly  on  her  and  pressed  her  hand. 
They  reached  the  house.  Bunny  received  his  con- 
gratulations somewhat  shamefacedly.  Quoted  the  Spen- 
serian lines  about  "  sleep  after  toyle,  port  after  stormy 

249 


The  Usurper 

seas,  ease  after  warre."  It  was  the  haven  where  he 
would  be.  On  revient  toujours  a  ses  premieres  amours. 
Did  not  Jasper  know  that  Alicia  was  his  first  love  ? 
As  a  boy  of  seventeen  he  had  been  desperately  in  love 
with  her.  Then  he  had  flown  from  false  goddess  to 
false  goddess  and  had  returned  to  the  one  divine  woman 
at  last.  He  was  blocking  out  all  the  seditious  matter 
in  his  past  life  as  the  press  censor  in  Russia  did  to 
newspapers.  He  was  going  to  start  fresh.  Jasper 
must  also  submit  his  own  private  chronicle  of  Bonamy 
Tredgold  and  have  it  duly  censored. 

"  I  '11  begin  then,"  said  Jasper,  and  meeting  an  in- 
stinctive look  of  apprehension  in  Bunny's  eyes,  drew 
his  chair  nearer  to  him. 

u  Tell  me  one  thing,"  said  he.  u  Lady  Alicia  is 
worthy  of  any  man's  whole-hearted  worship.  You 
can  give  it  to  her  ?  The  other  matter  is  all  dead  and 
gone  ? " 

"  It  turned  to  hate  long  ago,"  replied  Bunny. 
"Alicia  has  everything." 

"  That  is  as  it  should  be,"  said  Jasper,  gravely. 

But  he  was  not  convinced,  and  he  went  away,  de- 
clining lunch,  to  work  out  the  matter  in  solitude.  His 
heart  was  very  heavy,  oppressed  by  a  sense  of  disaster. 
Only  in  so  far  as  it  forbade  any  action  on  his  part 
did  he  think  of  his  own  love.  That  had  been  futile, 
criminal,  impossible  from  the  first.  Mere  animal  un- 
reason had  made  him  stagger  at  the  blow  it  had  received 
that  morning.  It  was  the  higher  part  to  efface  himself 
and  rejoice  in  whatever  happiness  came  into  the  loved 

250 


The  Usurper 

one's  life.  But  was  it  subject  for  rejoicing  ?  No  two 
seemed  more  unfitted  to  each  other.  This  very  unfit- 
ness  had  made  him  dismiss  Cudby's  warning  as  folly. 
He  had  regarded  Alicia's  solicitude  as  sweetly  maternal, 
had  thought  that  they  both  extended  their  affection 
to  the  lad  from  the  same  standpoint.  He  did  not  blame 
her  now.  Who  could  help  loving  Bunny  ?  But  it 
was  a  bad  day's  work. 

The  disparity  in  their  ages  of  itself  did  not  make  for 
happiness.  And  Bunny  did  not  love  her  truly.  It 
was  obvious  to  one  who  had  been  admitted  into  the 
furnace  of  the  lad's  heart.  He  was  marrying  her  from 
gratitude,  in  the  illusion  of  his  long  and  weary  con- 
valescence that  never  again  would  he  ask  of  life 
anything  but  restfulness.  When  he  regained  his  old 
magical  vitality,  he  would  discover  his  mistake  and 
would  break  either  her  heart  or  his  own.  And  his 
genius  would  suffer.  Jasper  knew  too  well  her  attitude 
towards  the  work  that  came  from  his  depths.  His 
temperament  clamoured  for  inspiration,  for  the  closest 
sympathy.  He  would  either  fly  abroad  in  spirit  and 
lead  an  emotional  artistic  life  apart  from  her,  or  else 
he  would  yield  to  the  softnesses  of  existence  and  write 
no  more.  In  either  case  it  would  be  unhappiness  for 
the  dear  woman. 

He  could  not  act.  In  spite  of  heroical  strangling 
of  his  own  love,  it  escaped  at  times  from  his  grasp. 
How  far  he  would  be  pleading  for  himself,  for  the 
mere  savage  satisfaction  of  feeling  that  if  the  woman 
he  loved  could  not  be  his,  she  at  least  should  belong 

25T 


The  Usurper 

to  no  other  man,  he  could  not  tell.  His  sensitive 
nature  shrank  from  the  self-imputation  of  such  baseness 
of  motive.  To  the  purest  and  holiest  in  his  life  he 
would  be  loyal.  His  hands  were  tied. 

Two  days  passed.  He  dined  at  Greybrooke.  On 
previous  occasions  he  had  faced  Alicia  at  table,  taking 
the  end  by  virtue  of  age  and  dignity.  This  evening 
he  drew  Bunny  into  the  seat,  and  sat  at  Alicia's  right 
hand  opposite  Lady  Luxmoore.  Alicia  blushed  and 
looked  pleased. 

"  You  '11  always  look  upon  this  place  as  yours, 
Jasper,  won't  you  ?  "  she  asked,  with  pretty  reference 
to  the  future. 

"  Of  course  he  will,"  cried  Bunny.  "Isn't  he  the 
bulwark  of  our  constitution  ?  Our  fairy  godmother  in 
trousers  ?  Dear  old  Jasper !  We  ought  to  have  an 
alabaster  statue  of  him  always  sitting  there  in  his 
absence." 

u  He  '11  sit  in  our  hearts,  which  will  be  better,"  said 
Alicia. 

"  You  are  both  in  mine,"  said  Jasper,  simply. 

They  made  much  of  him  ;  with  the  instinct  of  fine 
natures  strove  to  prove  that  the  change  in  their  relations 
could  only  draw  him  the  closer  to  them.  Bunny  pro- 
posed his  health  in  a  little  speech  half  mockery  and 
half  tenderness.  Jasper  grasped  a  hand  of  each  and 
said,  "  God  bless  you  both." 

"  Now  I  know  that  you  are  glad,"  whispered  Alicia. 

Yet,  for  all  their  love,  Jasper  in  his  heart  was  not 
glad. 

252 


The  Usurper 

Afterwards,  while  the  two  men  were  smoking  — 
the  invalid  had  lately  been  permitted  an  occasional  cig- 
arette —  Bunny  knocked  off  his  ash  meditatively  against 
the  side  of  his  coffee-cup  and  said,  — 

u  Does  Alicia  know  anything  about  Vittoria  ?  I  have 
never  asked  you." 

u  She  knows  that  you  went  out  on  account  of  a  love- 
affair,  —  with  some  girl  to  whom  you  wrote  the  Carmtna. 
Nothing  more." 

"  Thanks,"  said  Bunny.     "  It  is  just  as  well." 

He  precluded  further  reference  to  the  dismal  subject 
by  rising  and  suggesting  that  they  should  join  the 
ladies.  Jasper  understood  that  this  was  part  of  the 
blacking-out  process  and  followed  him  into  the  draw- 
ing-room. There  the  ladies  were  engaged  over  the 
evening  post  which  had  just  arrived.  Alicia  handed 
Jasper  a  note. 

"  It  is  from  the  Seagrims.  You  remember  them  at 
Aix,  don't  you  ?  They  have  only  just  heard  you  were 
here,  and  want  you  to  come  with  Aunt  Phoebe  and  myself 
to  their  garden-party  to-morrow.  They  are  neighbours 
of  mine,  you  know.  I  had  almost  forgotten  the  garden- 
party,"  she  added  after  a  little  pause,  during  which  Jasper 
had  glanced  through  his  invitation ;  u  other  things  put  it 
out  of  my  head." 

She  smiled  and  coloured  delicately.  Jasper's  brow 
wrinkled,  while  he  twirled  the  note  in  his  ringers. 

"  I  'm  not  a  garden-party  man,"  said  he.  "  Could  n't 
I  stay  here  and  keep  Bunny  out  of  mischief?  " 

"  I  'm  blest  if  you  do,"  cried  Bunny,  in  his  old  way. 
253 


The  Usurper 

"  I  Ve  got  my  living  to  earn  and  am  not  going  to  be 
disturbed." 

u  And  I  've  seen  you  appear  to  enjoy  a  garden-party 
very  much,"  said  Alicia. 

"  I  derived  great  profit  from  it,"  replied  Jasper,  re- 
membering Buckingham  Palace  and  the  change  that  her 
smile  had  wrought  in  his  dark  mood. 

"  The  second  experiment  may  be  equally  successful," 
said  Alicia. 

He  yielded.  There  was  laughing  talk.  The  evening 
ended  pleasantly.  It  was  arranged  that  the  ladies  should 
call  for  him  at  his  cottage  on  their  way  to  the  Seagrims'. 

"  You  '11  be  the  lion  of  the  entertainment,"  said  Bunny, 
"  so  spend  the  night  in  cultivating  the  appropriate  roar. 
It  ought  to  be  mellow  and  urbane,  but  still  have  a  note 
to  awe  the  presumptuous." 

Jasper  took  his  leave.  Bunny,  in  his  character  of 
probationary  host,  hobbled  out  with  him  to  the  front 
door. 

"  Good-night,  Bunny,"  said  Jasper. 

But  Bunny  held  his  friend's  hand  and  looked  very 
earnestly  into  his  face. 

"  I  want  to  say  a  word  to  you,  Jasper.  You  have  been 
father  and  brother  and  mother  to  me,  and  I  can  only 
try  to  repay  you  by  loving  you  more  than  any  man  living. 
Tell  me  if  I  'm  wronging  Alicia  by  marrying  her.  She 
is  worth  infinitely  more  than  a  poor  devil  like  me." 

"  If  you  love  her  truly,  you  are  not  wronging  her." 

"  I  do.  But  that 's  not  quite  what  I  want  to  get  at. 
Suppose  some  other  man,  a  thousand  times  worthier  than 

254 


The  Usurper 

I  am  —  oh,  I  don't  mean  the  poetry  —  any  damned 
wordmonger  can  write  poetry  —  but  a  man  —  one  who 
could  make  her  happier,  wanted  her  —  do  you  think  I 
ought  to  stand  in  his  light  ?  " 

"  There  's  no  one  of  that  description  hanging  around, 
so  you  may  make  your  mind  easy." 

"  Sure  ?     Quite  sure  ?     For  God's  sake,  tell  me." 

Jasper  put  on  an  air  of  sudden  surprise. 

u  Are  you  referring  to  me  by  any  chance,  sonny  ?  " 
he  asked  sharply. 

"  Bluntly  —  yes." 

"  My  dear  boy,"  said  Jasper,  "  I  've  lived  my  life 
long  ago,  and  I  could  no  more  marry  Lady  Alicia  Harden 
than  I  could  marry  the  Sultana  of  Zanzibar.  I  've  found 
in  her  friendship  a  refuge  from  many  cares,  and  other 
thoughts  have  n't  entered  my  head." 

"  You  won't  think  I  've  made  an  ass  of  myself  by 
speaking  ?  "  asked  Bunny. 

Jasper  laughed.  "  What  if  you  have  ?  A  blameless 
and  happy  young  donkey  is  a  more  enviable  being  than 
a  remorseful  poet.  As  for  being  worthy  of  Alicia,  your 
heart's  the  only  guide.  God  bless  you,  sonny.  Don't 
stand  in  the  night  air." 

He  started  off  with  the  cheeriest  of  "  good-nights," 
but  the  laughter  died  from  his  face  as  he  walked  home. 
Even  the  tragical  farce  of  his  denial  to  the  boy  brought 
but  a  sour  smile  momentarily  to  his  lips.  A  meditative 
lounge  over  the  gate  of  his  cottage  while  he  finished  his 
pipe  beneath  the  quiet  stars  brought  no  comfort.  An  owl 
hooting  dismally  in  a  neighbouring  chestnut-tree  got  on 

255 


The  Usurper 

his  nerves.  He  went  indoors  and  found  two  or  three 
letters  that  had  come  by  the  last  post.  One  was  from 
Cudby.  A  cutting  from  a  half-penny  evening  paper 
was  enclosed  with  u  Who  says  the  age  of  Romance  is 
dead  ?  "  sarcastically  pencilled  by  him  on  the  margin. 
The  paragraph  was  headed  u  The  Vanishing  Bride,"  and 
narrated  in  jocose  journalese  a  curious  story.  That 
morning  Carlo  Antonelli,  proprietor  of  the  Hotel  Bom- 
boni,  had  applied  to  the  magistrate  for  a  warrant  for  the 
arrest  of  his  niece  Vittoria  Antonelli,  who  had  disappeared 
from  his  house  the  night  before,  the  eve  of  her  marriage 
with  his  partner,  Giuseppe  Scarpi,  who  was  present  in 
court.  On  the  magistrate  enquiring  whether  she  had 
absconded  with  any  property  not  belonging  to  her,  the 
two  Italians  entered  upon  a  confused  story  of  financial 
arrangements  from  which  it  appeared  that  by  not  fulfilling 
her  contract  she  had  defrauded  one  of  them  of  moneys 
due  from  the  other.  The  magistrate  angrily  dismissed 
the  absurd  application,  and  informed  Signer  Antonelli  that 
if  he  desired  to  discover  the  whereabouts  of  his  missing 
niece  he  must  advertise  through  the  usual  channels. 
The  two  Italians  left  the  court,  wrangling  in  their  native 
tongue. 

Jasper  folded  the  slip  of  paper  and  thrust  it  into  his 
pocket  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders.  The  reporter's 
racy  vulgarity  had  brought  into  correct  light  the  sordid- 
ness  of  the  comedy. 

"  Thank  God,  the  boy  is  saved  from  all  that,  anyway," 
said  he,  opening  his  other  letters. 

256 


CHAPTER   XIX 

BUNNY  was  sitting  in  his  retreat  behind  the  rhodo- 
dendrons. He  had  just  come  there  from  afternoon 
tea,  which  had  been  served  to  him  in  solitary  state  in  the 
drawing-room.  The  spot  was  a  little  patch  of  shade 
in  a  world  of  fierce  sunlight.  The  air  was  oppressive, 
as  it  often  is  on  the  last  day  of  a  spell  of  fine  weather 
before  the  thunderstorm  comes  and  ends  it.  Not  a  leaf 
stirred  on  the  acacia  behind  him  or  the  tall  elms  along 
the  wall  in  front.  His  fever-racked  body  was  grateful 
for  the  warmth,  but  it  somewhat  enervated  him.  He 
had  felt  not  so  well  as  usual  all  day,  and  only  his  insist- 
ence that  she  should  go  out  and  enjoy  herself  prevailed 
upon  Lady  Alicia  to  set  forth  after  lunch  to  her  garden- 
party.  A  pencil  and  a  writing-pad  with  a  few  scribbled 
lines  upon  it  lay  on  a  small  table  by  his  side.  A  rug, 
spread  solemnly  every  sunny  morning  by  the  footman, 
was  beneath  his  feet.  Alicia's  fox-terrier  sprawled  asleep 
across  his  knees,  and  the  dog's  back  formed  a  book-rest 
for  a  novel  which  he  was  not  reading. 

The  great  heat  rose  from  the  ground  and  encircled 
him.  He  felt  languidly  content.  Fate  had  been  kind 
to  him,  after  all.  Now  that  he  was  quite  sure  that  he  had 
made  a  fool  of  himself  in  thinking  that  Jasper  might 
possibly  be  in  love  with  Alicia,  he  argued  that  he  was 
the  happiest  man  in  the  world.  He  leaned  back  in  his 
17  257 


The  Usurper 

chair  and  looked  up  at  the  sky,  and  rhymes  jingled  in  his 
head.  He  had  written  no  verses  for  Alicia  since 
his  return.  It  was  just  the  afternoon  for  idle  fancy.  The 
rhymes  fashioned  themselves  as  fitting  the  alternating 
refrain  of  a  villanelle.  A  chance  triplet  flashed  out  at 
once.  It  ended  in  the  line 

"  A  valley  in  Avilion." 

The  refrain  haunted  him,  and  he  began  to  frame  tags 
of  the  alternate  triplets  of  which  it  should  form  the  end. 
They  ran  so  musically  and  the  scheme  promised  so  well 
that  he  set  himself  purposely  to  weave  the  gossamer 
nineteen-line  fabric  on  its  two  warps  of  rhyme.  He 
tore  off  the  scribbled  page  of  his  writing-pad  and  on  the 
clean  page  jotted  down  the  germ  of  the  idea.  Then  he 
lay  back  with  closed  eyes,  his  lips  moving  to  the  tune. 
It  was  the  sweetest  delight  to  work  at  dainty  verse  again 
after  countless  years  of  grimness.  All  that  was  most 
fragrant  in  Alicia  should  perfume  the  villanelle.  It  would 
be  a  masterpiece  in  its  way.  And  that  evening  he  would 
give  it  her. 

"  And  feet  that  never  can  forsake 
A  valley  in  Avilion," 

murmured  Bunny. 

Presently  the  fox-terrier  on  his  knees  struggled  vio- 
lently to  gain  a  foothold,  scrambled  to  the  ground  and 
stood  with  uplifted  paw,  uttering  a  fox-terrier's  sharp 
barks.  Bunny  came  back  with  a  start  from  Avilion  to 
the  workaday  world,  instinctively  scolded  the  little  dog, 
and  then  turned  his  eyes  in  the  direction  he  was  pointing. 

258 


The  Usurper 

Then  he  sat  up,  gripping  the  arms  of  his  chair, 
amazed,  bewildered,  his  heart  thumping  like  the  clapper 
of  a  mad  bell.  Before  him  stood  Vittoria.  She  had  just 
entered  by  the  little  door  in  the  box  hedge,  and  remained 
on  the  gravel  path,  her  dark  eyes  full  upon  him.  She 
wore  the  old  black  sailor-hat  and  black  dress.  Her  hair 
was  untidy,  her  shoes  and  skirt  white  with  dust,  her  face 
sunburnt,  wearied,  with  streaks  of  moist  dust  across  it. 
Her  bodice  was  unbuttoned  at  the  throat,  and  she  held 
crumpled  in  her  hand  a  wet  black  ball  that  was  once  a 
pair  of  gloves.  She  looked  worn,  travel-stained,  desper- 
ate. Yet  she  held  herself  erect,  as  of  old,  with  bust 
thrown  out,  in  the  pride  of  her  splendid  young  woman- 
hood. The  sun  blazed  down  fiercely  upon  her.  She 
too  had  come  upon  him  unexpectedly,  and  for  a  while 
she  was  motionless.  Then  she  crossed  the  strip  of  lawn 
to  the  side  of  his  chair. 

"  Bon  Ami,"  she  said  pitifully.     "  Bon  Ami." 

His  bewilderment  found  vague  utterance.  u  My  God  ! 
Is  it  you  ?  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  " 

u  I  came  in  by  the  tradesman's  entrance,  —  not  the 
big  gates,"  she  said,  rather  huskily.  "  I  lost  my  way  ;  I 
opened  that  door  and  saw  you  asleep.  Then  the  dog 
barked  and  waked  you." 

"  You  had  better  go  away  again,"  said  Bunny,  "  and 
attend  to  the  business  you  have  come  about  —  whatever 
it  is.  I  have  nothing  to  say  to  you." 

He  was  still  confused  by  the  Homeric  apparition  of 
this  dusty  and  detested  young  Juno  ;  could  not  account 
for  it ;  dimly  conjectured  she  had  fallen  upon  evil  days 

259 


The  Usurper 

and  was  seeking  the  assistance  of  Jasper  the  philanthro- 
pist. 

"  I  came  to  ask  whether  you  would  let  me  see  you 
and  speak  with  you  again,  Bon  Ami,"  she  said  humbly. 
"  Only  for  a  moment.  I  have  walked  all  the  way  from 
London  to  see  you." 

"  To  see  me  ?  " 

"  What  else  should  bring  me  here  ?  " 

"  And  you  have  walked  from  London,  seventy  miles  ? 
But  why  should  you  walk  ?  There  are  trains." 

"  I  left  home  —  the  Hotel  Bomboni,  the  night  before 
last.  When  I  had  gone  a  short  distance,  I  found  I  had 
left  my  purse  behind  me.  I  was  afraid  to  go  back,  for 
they  would  have  heard  me  and  kept  me.  I  had  n't  the 
money  for  the  railway  fare.  So  I  walked." 

u  Sit  down  for  a  moment.  You  must  be  tired,"  said 
Bunny  coldly,  indicating  Alicia's  chair. 

She  burst  out  with  a  passionate  gesture  :  "  I  would 
have  walked  to  the  other  end  of  the  earth  to  find  you. 
I  am  not  tired.  I  only  want  a  kind  word,  Bon  Ami." 

She  bent  forward,  laid  her  hand  timidly  on  the  arm  of 
his  chair,  and  looked  into  his  face. 

"  How  you  are  altered,  Bon  Ami  !  How  ill  you  are 
looking  !  Oh,  it  is  terrible  !  " 

Her  voice  ended  in  a  sob.  Her  nerve  gave  way. 
She  threw  herself  down  against  the  little  sloping  bank 
of  turf  that  shored  up  the  bed  of  the  rhododendrons  and 
sobbed  and  cried,  hiding  her  face  in  her  hands. 

"  I  drove  you  to  it  —  I  have  killed  you  —  I  am  not 
fit  to  live  —  I  wish  I  were  dead." 

260 


The  Usurper 

These  and  other  disconnected  ejaculations  of  a  weep- 
ing woman's  remorse  reached  Bunny's  ears.  Then 
anger  flamed  up  in  his  heart.  He  turned  upon  her 
fiercely. 

"  What  right  have  you  to  come  here  ?  I  wished 
never  to  set  eyes  on  you  again.  You  saw  that  I  was 
a  fool  and  played  with  me  like  a  damned  harlot,  and 
when  the  game  was  over,  went  back  to  your  scum  and 
left  me.  You  took  all  from  me  and  threw  it  in  my 
face.  How  dare  you  track  me  down  to  this  house  ? 
How  dare  you  speak  to  me  ?  You  have  played  the 
devil  with  me  enough.  I  'm  not  going  to  have  any 
more  of  it." 

He  rose,  with  a  wince,  from  his  chair  and  stood  over 
her  as  she  crouched  with  heaving  shoulders,  and  threw 
a  sovereign  into  her  lap. 

"  There  is  money  to  buy  food  in  the  village  and  pay 
your  fare  to  town.  It 's  a  loan  if  you  like.  You  can 
pay  me  back.  You  can  stay  here  and  rest  yourself. 
I  've  done  with  you.  Good-day." 

He  turned  away  sharply.  But  before  he  had  gone 
three  paces,  staggering  in  his  unusual  haste,  Vittoria  was 
on  her  feet  and  her  hands  were  on  his  shoulders. 

"  Don't  go,  Bon  Ami,  for  God's  sake,  don't  go ! 
Hear  me.  Just  a  little  moment." 

In  her  passionate  earnestness,  she  put  forth  her  young 
strength  so  as  to  detain  him.  It  was  like  holding  back 
a  bulrush.  He  swayed  to  and  fro  in  her  grasp,  grew 
white,  uttered  a  few  short  gasps  of  pain.  Then  she 
half  understood  and  released  him.  He  put  his  hands  to 

261 


The  Usurper 

his  side  and  tottered  back  to  the  chair  and  lay  half 
fainting.  Frightened,  she  threw  herself  on  her  knees 
beside  him. 

"  Santa  Madonna  mla,  what  have  I  done  ?  " 

Seeing  him  so  pale,  she  sought  for  something  to  use 
as  a  fan.  Finding  nothing,  she  unpinned  her  hat,  and 
her  dark  hair,  loosened,  fell  in  a  coil  about  her  neck. 
He  motioned  her  away. 

"  It 's  nothing,'*  he  panted.  "  I  had  a  hole  through 
me  —  and  it's  not  quite  right  yet.  Cripples  have  to 
be  gingerly  handled.  It  is  n't  your  fault.  You  did  n't 
know.  I  'm  getting  better  —  only  it  hurt  like  the 
devil." 

She  reached  for  a  cushion  that  lay  in  the  other  chair  and 
still  kneeling,  put  it  behind  his  head.  He  nodded  thanks. 

"  Don't  trouble  any  more,"  said  he.  u  I  'd  like  to 
rest  a  bit.  So,  if  you  don't  mind  going  — " 

u  Don't  send  me  away,  Bon  Ami,"  she  pleaded. 
"  Not  without  a  word  of  forgiveness." 

"  I  told  you  it  was  n't  your  fault.  Besides,  no  harm  's 
done." 

"  Oh,  not  for  this.  For  the  other  thing.  For  every- 
thing, Bon  Ami.  Oh,  don't  look  like  that  at  me.  I 
know  I  've  brought  suffering  on  you  and  I  've  been  in 
hell  fire  all  the  time.  I  have,  Bon  Ami.  I  don't  quite 
know  what  I  came  for.  I  was  mad  perhaps.  I  thought 
if  I  saw  you  once  more  and  asked  you  to  forgive  me 
it  would  be  enough.  Bon  Ami !  " 

He  drew  his  hand  away  with  a  shudder  from  her 
touch.  Abominable  associations  made  her  unclean. 

262 


The  Usurper 

"There  are  things  beyond  reach  of  forgiveness,"  he 
said  between  his  teeth.  "  Go  back  to  the  husband  you 
chose  and  leave  me." 

"  But  I  have  no  husband,  Bon  Ami,  I  am  a  pure  girl, 
and  I  have  loved  you,  loved  you,  loved  you,  all  the 
time  !  "  she  cried  in  a  wild  breath. 

Bunny  passed  his  hand  over  his  forehead,  looked  at 
the  ground  on  either  side  of  him  in  a  hunted  fashion. 
She  saw  her  advantage.  Her  eyes  grew  eager. 

"  I  hated  him,  loathed  him.  My  God,  Bon  Ami,  can 
you  think  I  did  n't  loathe  him  ?  They  were  trying  to 
force  me  to  it.  Uncle  Antonelli  was  in  his  power, 
owed  him  money  —  the  other  had  a  hold  upon  him, 
compromising  papers  which  he  threatened  to  give  up 
to  the  Mafia  in  Naples.  The  Mafia  would  have  sent  an 
agent  to  kill  Uncle  Antonelli.  You  don't  know  what 
Italian  secret  societies  are,  Bon  Ami.  A  Neapolitan 
comes  to  the  Hotel  Bomboni  with  introductions  —  a 
game  of  dominoes  in  the  back  parlour  —  Giuseppe  guards 
the  door.  Then  suddenly,  flan !  and  a  knife  is  in 
Uncle  Antonelli' s  heart,  and  Giuseppe  lets  the  man  out 
the  back  way  and  then  goes  and  finds  Uncle  Antonelli 
dead,  and  calls  in  the  police  —  oh,  it's  as  easy  as  drinking 
wine  —  I  had  to  agree.  I  never  meant  to  keep  my 
word — when  you  went  I  held  out  as  long  as  I  could. 
Then  there  was  a  betrothal  and  contract  signed  and 
Uncle  Antonelli  got  back  his  papers.  We  don't  break 
contracts  like  this.  The  marriage  was  fixed  for  yesterday. 
Uncle  Antonelli  was  to  be  forgiven  the  debt  and  make 
Giuseppe  chief  partner.  Giuseppe  bought  me  clothes 

263 


The  Usurper 

to  wear,  because  I  would  n't  buy  them  myself.  The 
night  came.  I  was  going  to  be  married  to-morrow.  In 
a  few  hours.  Oh,  but  it  was  horrible,  horrible,  Bon 
Ami.  I  shivered  in  bed.  Then  suddenly  I  leaped  out, 
threw  on  my  clothes,  and  crept  downstairs  so  softly, 
softly  —  and  when  I  was  in  the  street  I  ran.  And  so  I 
walked  all  night  and  all  yesterday,  and  my  one  idea 
was  to  see  you  and  when  I  had  seen  you  I  didn't  care 
what  happened.  And  I  have  seen  you,  Bon  Ami,  and 
you  must  forgive  me." 

She  had  told  the  story  dramatically,  with  Italian 
vividness,  using  her  hands,  swaying  her  body,  changing 
the  inflections  in  her  flexible  voice.  The  realism  of 
absolute  truth  stirred  the  depths  in  Bunny.  Deadened 
emotions  quickened  into  life.  He  struggled  against 
them. 

"  You  have  made  me  suffer  as  much  as  any  woman 
has  ever  made  a  man  suffer,"  said  he,  unyielding. 

Vittoria  sat  back  on  her  heels  and  looked  at  him 
sadly. 

u  I  know,"  she  said.  "  I  have  made  shipwreck  of 
you.  You  are  different.  Your  face  has  grown  stern, 
and  your  eyes  don't  laugh  any  more,  and  your  voice 
does  n't  ring.  But  did  you  never  think  I  might  have 
loved  you?  I  thought  1  let  you  see  it  often  enough. 
I  could  n't  always." 

"  We  have  a  doggerel  verse  in  English  about  dis- 
sembling one's  love,"  said  Bunny,  with  an  ironical  lip. 
"  Why  did  you  kick  me  downstairs  among  the  scullions 
when  I  offered  you  what  was  best  in  me  ? " 

264 


The  Usurper 

Her  shoulders  gave  an  expressive  Italian  shrug.  "  I 
said  what  I  did  in  joke,  Bon  Ami.  It  was  half  true. 
Only  I  was  n't  going  to  let  it  be  true.  I  called  you 
back  to  tell  you  so.  But  you  would  n't  stop  to  listen. 
You  rushed  out.  I  thought  you  would  return.  I 
stayed  awake  all  night.  The  next  day  you  did  n't  come, 
nor  the  next.  Then  I  grew  frightened  and  went  to  your 
house.  They  told  me  you  had  gone  for  a  soldier  and 
had  left  no  address.  But  I  said  it  in  joke,  Bon  Ami." 

"  In  joke  ?  Did  you  think  that  such  a  horror  was  a 
joke,  Vittoria  ?  " 

He  was  miles  from  her  point  of  view.  Forests  of 
different  spiritual  and  social  instincts  separated  them. 

"  I  was  only  teasing  you.  I  liked  to  see  you  angry. 
I  loved  you  most  when  you  had  that  fierce  look." 

The  conversation  had  established  itself  upon  possible 
lines,  had  found  the  rails,  so  to  speak.  She  was  sitting 
now  on  the  grass,  supported  by  her  hand.  The  other 
held  her  hat,  with  which  she  fanned  herself.  Bunny 
made  no  reply.  He  was  busily  engaged  in  reconstructing 
a  theory  of  woman  out  of  hideously  broken  fragments. 
Vittoria  dropped  her  hat  and  took  a  handkerchief  from 
the  low  table. 

"  May  I  ?  "  she  asked.     "  Mine  is  useless." 

Bunny  nodded.  She  turned  her  face  away,  buried  it 
in  the  clean  cool  linen,  rubbed  vigorously,  and  when  the 
handkerchief  had  done  its  utmost  she  thrust  it  in  her 
pocket.  Then  she  raised  her  hands  behind  her  head, 
abstracted  hairpins  which  she  put  in  her  mouth,  shook 
out  the  masses  of  her  glorious  hair,  and  quickly  recoiled 


The  Usurper 

it  with  deft  fingers  into  something  resembling  neatness. 
Bunny  regarded  her  fascinated.  The  free  movements 
of  her  uplifted  arms  showed  the  curves  of  her  young, 
ripe  figure,  and  as  she  threw  back  her  head  brought  out 
the  fulness  of  her  throat  disclosed  by  the  unbuttoned 
neck  of  the  bodice.  Colour  had  returned  to  her  cheeks, 
and  the  soft  duskiness  to  her  eyes.  In  spite  of  travel 
stains  summarily  wiped  away,  she  glowed  in  her  south- 
ern beauty.  When  she  had  fixed  the  last  hairpin 
and  felt  both  sides  of  her  hasty  coiffure  with  feminine 
touches,  she  met  his  glance  with  shy  uplifting  of  her 
dark  lashes. 

"  Am  I  still  senza  errore  —  by  the  '  faultless  painter  '  ?  " 
she  asked. 

The  astounding  assurance  took  his  breath  away. 

"  By  heaven,  you  are,"  he  exclaimed  unthinkingly. 

"  Ah  !  there  you  are  like  the  Bon  Ami  I  used  to 
love,"  she  cried  happily. 

He  shifted  his  position  in  his  chair. 

"  I  don't  see  where  all  this  is  leading  us  to,  Vittoria," 
he  said.  u  What  has  been  can  never  be  again.  You 
know  that  as  well  as  I  do.  Nothing  will  make  you 
understand  that  what  was  joke  to  you  was  death  to 
me." 

"  But  I  do  understand.  I  have  thought  about  it 
hundreds  of  nights,  after  I  had  been  crying,  crying  for 
hours.  I  thought  I  should  cry  all  the  brightness  out 
of  my  eyes.  It  is  you  that  don't  understand.  What 
seemed  horrible  to  you  did  not  seem  so  horrible  to  me, 
because  it  was  part  of  my  every-day  life.  I  did  not 

266 


The  Usurper 

mean  to  marry  Giuseppe  —  but  I  was  looked  upon  as 
Giuseppe's  betrothed  by  all  the  girls  in  Naples.  I  lived 
their  life,  Bon  Ami.  I  used  to  tell  you  there  were  two 
people  in  me.  But  I  loved  you,  Bon  Ami,  with  all  my 
heart  and  soul,  and  I  was  afraid  to  tell  you  so.  I  used 
to  suffer  there  when  you  came.  After  I  had  been 
speaking  to  you,  or  been  out  with  you,  there  were 
quarrels,  and  once  Uncle  Antonelli  tried  to  beat  me, 
and  I  tore  the  stick  out  of  his  hands  —  I  am  strong, 
Bon  Ami  —  and  if  he  had  touched  me  I  should  have 
killed  him.  They  sent  me  to  Naples  to  be  away  from 
you,  Bon  Ami  —  and  I  did  n't  care,  for  I  knew  you 
loved  me.  And  when  you  came  that  night,  and  asked 
me  to  marry  you  I  was  so  happy  —  I  felt  as  if  all  the 
Mafias  in  the  world  could  n't  hurt  us.  And  then  the 
devil  got  into  me  and  I  said  '  I  love  to  see  him  get 
angry,'  and  it  was  wonderful  to  a  poor  common  girl  like 
me  to  see  how  she  could  move  a  man  like  you,  Bon 
Ami,  to  any  passion  by  just  saying  a  few  words  ;  and 
then  I  wanted  to  tell  you  of  Giuseppe  —  and  oh,  Bon 
Ami  dear,  dear,  I  don't  know  why  I  said  it.  I  was 
burning,  quivering  with  love  for  you  all  the  time.  And 
if  you  had  just  turned  back  I  would  have  thrown  all  my 
arms  round  you,  and  defied  them  all  and  gone  out  there 
and  then  into  the  street  with  you  —  to  the  end  of  the 
world." 

She  talked  on.  Bunny,  with  set  face  and  great  pain 
in  his  eyes,  stared  at  the  elm-trees.  Her  voice  —  the 
rich,  half-English,  half-Italian  voice  —  seemed  to  mingle 
with  the  warm  scents  and  the  heavy  air  of  the  hot 

267 


The  Usurper 

afternoon  and    lap  him  round.     He  almost  lost    sense 
of  her  words,  their  sound  was  so  perilously  alluring. 

"  If  it  had  been  a  man  of  your  own  rank,  Bon  Ami, 
it  would  not  have  mattered  —  not  so  much  ?  "  she 
asked  suddenly. 

"  No,"  he  replied  in  a  low  tone,  "  not  so  much." 

u  But  you  see,  Giuseppe  was  of  my  rank.  I  did  n't 
realise  what  it  meant  to  you." 

"  It  meant  all  filth  and  horror  and  abomination  to 
me,"  he  answered,  looking  round  quickly  into  her  eyes. 
She  met  them,  bent  her  face  a  little  nearer  him. 

tc  I  swear  to  you,  Bon  Ami,  by  the  soul  of  my  mother, 
that  I  have  let  no  man  on  earth  kiss  me  but  you." 

Bunny  put  Out  a  trembling  hand.  "  Hush  !  "  he  said 
weakly,  "  you  must  n't  talk  of  those  things.  I  'm  not 
quite  fit."  Vittoria  sank  back  again  on  the  grass. 

"  Don't  you  care  for  me  any  more  ?  "  she  asked 
sadly. 

"  The  same  meteor  can't  flash  back  again  across  the 
sky,  Vittoria." 

She  sighed  for  answer.  On  the  grass  a  few  feet 
away  lay  the  sovereign  which  he  had  thrown  into  her 
lap  and  which  had  fallen  when  she  had  risen  to  detain 
him.  Suddenly  she  noticed  it,  stretched  out  for  it,  and 
handed  it  up  to  him.  The  coin  lay  in  her  open  palm. 
Her  palm  was  one  of  her  curious  beauties  —  pink  and 
soft,  crumpled  like  a  baby's.  He  had  often  kissed  it. 
The  sight  of  it  recalled  startlingly  dear  foolishnesses 
of  dead  days. 

"  I  can't  take  this  from  you,  Bon  Ami." 
268 


The  Usurper 

He  closed  her  fingers  over  the  coin.  The  touch  sent 
a  thrill  through  him. 

"  You  must,  for  my  sake,  Vittoria.  You  will  require 
food  —  and  it  would  be  foolish  to  walk  back  to  London." 

"  I  will  keep  it,  if  you  will  forgive  me." 

u  Yes,  I  forgive  you.  We  each  misunderstood  the 
other.  There  is  no  more  to  be  said.  I  am  glad  you 
came,  for  you  have  taken  a  shudder  out  of  my  soul." 

Silence  fell  upon  them  for  a  while.  The  shadows  had 
crept  far  down  the  gravel  path,  and  only  the  wall  in  front 
half  hidden  by  the  elm  trunks  glowed  in  hot  sunlight. 

"  I  must  be  going,"  said  Vittoria. 

"  What  are  your  plans  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  have  none.  I  never  thought.  I  walked  crazily 
—  only  wanting  to  see  you." 

"  That  was  the  Italian  you." 

She  laughed  as  if  the  future  were  all  harmoniously 
arranged  for  her. 

u  I  suppose  so.  But  I  never  dared  hope  that  I  should 
be  so  happy.  I  thought  perhaps  I  could  die  after  I  had 
spoken  to  you  again  —  and  nothing  mattered.  Nothing 
matters  now." 

"  But  where  are  you  going  —  not  back  to  the  Hotel 
Bomboni  ?  " 

"  To  have  them  marry  me  by  main  force  !  Oh  no. 
I  know  a  place.  I  will  think  it  out  in  the  train." 

She  put  the  matter  aside.  The  hour  was  too  precious 
for  discussion  of  things  so  unimportant.  She  entered 
upon  a  brief  but  characteristically  told  narrative  of  her 
doings  since  they  had  parted.  She  had  lost  him.  The 

269 


The  Usurper 

Hotel  Bomboni  grew  hateful.  She  longed  at  least  for 
sunshine  and  absence  from  the  abhorred  Giuseppe.  For 
months  she  lived  in  Naples.  There  she  had  seen  no 
English  newspapers,  did  not  know  Bon  Ami  was 
wounded.  Only  when  she  returned  a  month  ago  did  she 
see  a  reference  to  him  in  connection  with  his  poems.  A 
quite  recent  paragraph  in  a  column  of  literary  gossip  had 
told  her  how  desperately  ill  he  had  been  and  where  he 
was  staying.  She  had  written  five  letters  and  torn  them 
up.  These  last  few  days  she  had  been  as  one  paralysed. 
The  approaching  marriage  had  been  like  a  doom.  They 
had  watched  her  like  cats.  She  was  like  a  fowl  under 
the  eye  of  a  snake.  She  shuddered. 

"  It 's  all  over.  I  will  never  see  the  Hotel  Bomboni 
again." 

Bunny  listened  silently.  On  the  surface  of  deep 
emotion  ran  an  irritating  current  of  concern  for  her 
immediate  welfare.  She  could  not  throw  herself  penniless 
and  friendless  upon  London.  Suddenly  Jasper  occurred 
to  him  as  the  very  god  out  of  the  machine.  He  would 
find  her  a  refuge.  Let  her  go  to  some  decent  lodging 
for  the  night  and  trust  to  Mr.  Vellacot. 

"  He  is  staying  here  —  close  by.  I  shall  see  him  this 
evening.  He  is  the  wonderfullest  man  on  earth  —  the 
nearest  to  the  ban  Dleu  that  ever  was.  You  must  do 
exactly  what  he  tells  you,  Vittoria.  I  sha'n't  sleep  to- 
night unless  you  promise." 

"  I  promise,  Bon  Ami,  if  it  will  make  you  happier," 
she  replied. 

She  sat  contentedly  by  him,  though  as  physically  tired 
270 


The  Usurper 

as  girl  could  be.  Her  feet  were  burning  and  blistered. 
Her  limbs  ached.  She  had  walked  seventy  miles  in  two 
days  and  a  night  along  the  baked  high  road.  The  night 
before  she  had  slept  some  hours  in  a  barn.  She  had 
lived  on  bread  and  cheese  purchased  at  wayside  inns  out 
of  a  shilling  she  had  found  in  her  pocket.  But  she  did 
not  care.  She  had  reached  that  blissful  stage  of  feminine 
abasement  when  self  matters  little  so  long  as  it  is  under 
the  foot  of  the  beloved  man.  And  hope  of  unutterable 
things  sang  in  her  heart. 

Bunny  looked  at  her  and  saw  she  was  perhaps  more 
beautiful  than  she  had  ever  been.  All  the  dusky  glow 
of  summer  evenings  was  in  her  eyes.  The  crimson 
flower  in  the  sunshine  had  deepened  in  passionate  colour. 
For  the  first  time  he  saw  her  face  spiritualised  by  love, 
elementary,  unblushing,  unashamed.  And  he  knew  that 
she  offered  him  virgin  heart  and  body  and  lips. 

"  It  is  time  for  you  to  go,  Vittoria,"  he  said,  somewhat 
unsteadily. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  she  sighed.  She  rose  slowly  to  her 
feet. 

«  Good-bye,"  he  said. 

"  Oh,  not  good-bye,  Bon  Ami." 

"  Yes.  It's  good-bye.  I  shall  not  see  you  again, 
Vittoria." 

The  joy  died  out  of  her  face.    "Why  not,  Bon  Ami  ?  " 

"  Because,  after  all  that  has  passed  between  us,  we  can 
meet  neither  as  friends  nor  enemies  nor  lovers.  No  re- 
lation is  possible.  I  am  going  to  marry  my  cousin,  Lady 
Alicia  Harden." 

271 


The  Usurpei 

It  was  the  man  with  grey  face  that  spoke,  not  the 
boy  that  still  lingered  in  him.  He  dealt  the  blow  mer- 
cilessly, knowing  it  to  be  right.  She  held  him  with  her 
eyes,  moved  very  slowly  and  sat  on  the  footrest  of  his 
chair,  as  Alicia  had  done  a  few  days  before. 

"  Do  you  love  her  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  love  her  truly,"  said  Bunny,  meeting  her  gaze  as 
he  had  met  death. 

"  You  lie,  Bon  Ami.  You  have  loved  no  one  else 
but  me  in  all  your  life.  You  love  me  still,  and  no 
woman  on  earth  shall  take  you  from  me.  You  love  me 
all  the  more  because  you  have  suffered  through  me. 
Dare  to  tell  me  that  you  don't  love  me." 

u  Go  ! "  he  cried,  shaken  and  white,  thrusting  out  his 
hand  involuntarily. 

It  met  her  in  mid-bosom.  She  caught  it,  held  it  fast 
to  her  young  breast,  that  rose  free  behind  her  bodice. 
Her  grip  was  of  iron.  The  pressure  of  his  hand  un- 
locked floodgates.  She  was  less  a  woman  than  a  swirl- 
ing passion.  She  bent  forward  and  her  mouth  drew  close 
and  her  breath  was  on  his  lips.  Elm-trees,  sky,  and  the 
sweet  shadows  of  the  waning  afternoon  melted  into  in- 
finite depths  of  burning  agate.  He  yielded.  Time  stood 
still. 

At  the  sound  of  a  woman's  voice  Vittoria  started, 
drew  herself  from  his  arms ;  was  rising  to  her  feet,  when 
the  woman  followed  by  a  man  sharply  turned  the  corner 
by  the  rhododendrons. 


272 


CHAPTER   XX 

VITTORIA  sprang  up  and  regarded  the  intruders 
like  a  young  lioness.       Bunny  too  rose  and  stood 
supporting  himself  with  his  hand  on  the  back  of  the  chair. 
Jasper,  the  first  shock  of  surprise  over,  touched  Alicia's 
arm  gently. 

"  Come  with  me,  I  can  explain  this  matter,"  he  said. 

But  Alicia  paid  no  heed.  She  had  drawn  herself  up 
to  her  full  height  and  was  returning  the  girl's  stare 
haughtily.  It  was  the  first  crisis  in  life  she  had  been 
called  upon  to  meet.  She  came,  as  she  had  once  told 
Jasper,  of  a  fighting  stock.  Instinct  compelled  her  to 
immediate  battle. 

Bunny  passed  his  hand  rapidly  over  his  forehead  and 
through  his  curly  black  hair,  and  held  himself  as  erect  as 
illness  and  wound  would  let  him,  and  kept  his  eyes 
proudly  on  Alicia.  But  his  face  was  so  white  and 
pinched  that  Jasper  instinctively  crossed  the  three  or  four 
yards  of  lawn  that  separated  them,  and  stood  by  his  side. 
Everything  was  very  still.  They  were  in  a  little  world 
of  shadow.  Only  the  tops  of  the  elms  were  warmed  by 
the  setting  sun.  And  for  an  eternity  of  a  few  seconds 
the  two  women  fought  silently,  —  one  hatless,  dis- 
hevelled, dusty,  superb  in  young  barbaric  beauty ;  the 
other  tall,  perfectly  dressed  in  pale  lavender,  with  darker 
shade  in  a  toque  setting  off  a  queenly  head,  delicately 
18  273 


The  Usurper 

coloured,  aristocrat  to  her  feet,  English  to  the  bloom  on 
her  fair  cheek.  The  southern  girl's  bosom  rose  and  fell 
beneath  her  thin  black  dress.  Alicia  turned  to  Bunny, 
indicated  Vittoria  with  a  slight  swing  of  her  parasol. 

"  Can  you  introduce  me  to  our  guest  ? "  she  asked 
with  subtle  intonation. 

"  Lady  Alicia,"  said  Bunny,  "  this  is  Miss  Vittoria 
Antonelli.  I  once  asked  her  to  be  my  wife.  She  did 
me  the  honour  of  refusing." 

"May  I  ask  if  you  have  repeated  your  offer  ?  " 

"  I  was  not  at  liberty  to  do  so,  even  if  I  had  so  desired," 
replied  Bunny ^  very  haughtily.  "  Miss  Antonelli  came 
here  to  clear  up  an  unfortunate  misunderstanding." 

"  And  now  that  it  is  cleared  up  ?  " 

"  My  heart  is  lighter,  and  I  shall  walk  in  the  way  that 
honour  dictates." 

u  Only  honour?  If  it  is  only  that  which  ties  you,  I 
will  give  you  back  your  freedom." 

"  Alicia,"  said  Bunny,  "  Miss  Antonelli,  for  reasons 
she  has  explained  to  me,  has  come  on  foot  for  seventy 
miles  from  London  to  tell  me  what  she  has  told  me.  She 
is  in  need  of  food  and  rest.  By  ourselves  I  will  inform 
you  with  absolute  frankness  of  all  that  has  occurred. 
Don't  you  think  we  might  end  a  very  painful  situation  ?  " 

u  There  is  but  one  way  of  ending  it,"  said  Alicia. 

"  I  will  go,"  said  Vittoria,  moving  swiftly  round  the 
footrest  of  the  chair  and  coming  up  to  Bunny.  "  Good- 
bye, Bon  Ami." 

She  held  out  her  hand;  he  gave  her  his  ;  she  kissed  it 
three  times  quickly  and  looked  up  with  passionate  face. 

274 


The  Usurper 

"You  dare  not  say  that  you  don't  love  me,"  she  re- 
peated in  a  voice  full  of  deep  vibrations.  Bunny  remained 
quite  still,  trembling  from  head  to  foot. 

Vittoria  turned,  walked  away ;  in  passing  Lady  Alicia 
she  regarded  her  with  face  and  eyes  aflame  with  triumph. 

"  Stay  !  "  cried  Alicia,  shortly.  The  word  rang  out 
curiously  sharp  in  the  quiet  air.  "  I  said  there  was  but 
one  way  of  ending.  It  must  be  done  at  once.  I  give 
you  back  your  word.  You  are  free  to  choose.  Make 
your  choice  now." 

She  was  wrought  to  full  pitch  of  exaltation.  The 
romantic  which  had  daintily  guided  all  her  emotional  life 
joined  itself  with  pride  of  race  and  pride  of  self  and 
compelled  an  heroic  folly.  She  had  ever  loved  to  play 
with  delicate  drama.  Her  nature  craved  it.  Now  that 
melodrama  came  her  way  she  was  powerless  to  resist  its 
fascination.  The  dramatic  moment  was  the  most  intense 
that  she  had  lived  through.  She  realised  it.  Through 
the  midst  of  anger  and  scorn  ran  a  shivering  thrill 
of  conscious  rectitude  and  magnanimity.  Besides, 
warmly  woman,  she  resented  to  her  inmost  the  girl's 
insolence  of  triumph.  Another  instant  of  doubt  was 
intolerable. 

Vittoria  paused.  Bunny  put  his  hand  to  his  side. 
The  two  women  fronted  him.  He  clutched  Jasper's  arm 
and  looked  from  one  to  the  other.  Alicia's  fox-terrier 
ran  up  from  behind  the  rhododendrons  and  stood  with 
ears  a-cock  as  if  waiting  for  what  would  happen.  Then 
Bunny  let  go  his  hold  of  Jasper's  arm,  staggered  three 
steps,  and  with  a  little  choking  sob  fell  at  the  feet  of  the 

275 


The  Usurper 

two  women.  To  which  one  he  was  going  none  of  the 
three  there  could  tell. 

The  fall  was  so  sudden  and  so  ghastly  that  for  a  second 
there  was  a  deathly  silence.  Then  Alicia  screamed  and 
bent  forward ;  but  in  a  flash  Vittoria  was  on  her  knees 
with  Bunny's  head  on  her  lap,  while  with  her  free  hand 
she  waved  the  other  away. 

"  Leave  him.  Don't  touch  him.  You  have  no  right 
to  touch  him.  You  don't  love  him  —  you  can't  love 
him.  Bon  Ami  —  my  God  !  —  Bon  Ami !  " 

Jasper,  who  had  rushed  up,  loosened  his  collar.  Then 
he  looked  round  gravely  at  Lady  Alicia,  who  stood  white- 
faced  and  helpless. 

"  I  will  run  to  the  house  for  some  brandy  and  send 
for  the  doctor." 

He  disappeared.  Vittoria  hung  over  the  unconscious 
lad  and  gazed  at  him  with  terror  dawning  in  her  eyes. 
Alicia  stooped  again,  and  wiped  the  froth  from  his  lips 
with  her  lace  handkerchief. 

u  It  is  only  a  fainting  fit,"  she  whispered  desperately. 

But  Vittoria  did  not  hear.  She  called  his  name, 
poured  into  his  unheeding  ear  a  torrent  of  anguished 
speech.  For  her  the  other  woman  did  not  exist.  But 
at  last  the  gloved  fingers  of  Alicia  happened  to  meet  her 
hand  and  she  wrenched  them  away.  Then  Alicia  touched 
the  girl's  shoulder. 

"  I  have  given  you  equal  rights,"  she  said  very  gently  ; 
"  but  remember  that  I  love  him  too." 

The  girl  looked  at  her,  speechless,  and  the  look 
haunted  Alicia  in  the  after  days. 

276 


The  Usurper 

Jasper  returned  with  brandy.  He  threw  himself  down 
at  Bunny's  side.  Something  in  the  rigid  young  face  and 
glassy  eyes  which  had  not  struck  the  women,  smote  him 
with  an  awful  conviction.  He  put  his  hand  upon  the 
boy's  heart  for  a  breathless  moment.  Then  he  rose  to 
his  feet. 

"  He  is  dead,"  said  he. 

Vittoria  upturned  a  face  of  unspeakable  tragedy. 
Alicia  stood  frozen.  Jasper  took  her  by  the  arm. 

u  Leave  them  together  for  a  little,"  he  said ;  and  she 
suffered  him  to  lead  her  away.  She  walked  with  him 
dry-eyed  through  the  shrubbery  and  across  the  lawn. 
In  her  ears  rang  the  wail  of  a  woman's  great  agony.  A 
shudder  ran  through  her.  Mechanically  she  tried  to 
strip  off  her  gloves  without  unbuttoning  them,  and  tore 
the  soft  kid  from  the  palm  upwards.  They  passed 
through  the  French  windows  of  the  drawing-room 
and  into  the  hall.  At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  she 
turned,  very  erect,  very  much  the  great  lady.  Her 
lips  framed  a  "  Thank  you,  Jasper,"  and  she  dis- 
missed him.  He  watched  her  ascend  and  disappear 
at  the  turn. 

He  retraced  his  steps.  The  household  had  not  been 
alarmed.  The  coachman  had  driven  off  full  speed  in 
the  dog-cart  to  fetch  the  doctor.  Jasper  came  upon 
Vittoria  still  kneeling,  with  Bunny's  head  in  her  lap. 
The  girl  was  a  piteous  sight.  When  he  touched  her 
and  spoke  to  her,  she  shrank  and  enfolded  the  boy's 
body  tighter  to  her  bosom. 

u  Stay  here  until  I  come  for  you,"  he  said.  "  I  know 
277 


The  Usurper 

all  that  there  is  to  know,  and  I  promise  that  you  shall 
see  him  again." 

He  firmly  loosened  her  grip.  It  relaxed  and  she  fell 
sideways  upon  the  grass.  Jasper  took  all  that  remained 
of  the  divine  young  spirit  in  his  arms  and  walked  back 
with  it  to  the  house. 

Then  it  became  known,  and  there  was  hurry  and  con- 
sternation, and  Jasper  became  aware  of  a  phantasmagoria 
of  white  faces  and  sobbing  women.  Lady  Luxmoore 
helped  him  to  lay  Bunny  upon  his  bed.  He  explained 
the  tragedy  in  a  few  words.  The  poor  lady  could 
scarcely  comprehend.  She  had  loved  Bunny  as  all  those 
who  had  known  him  had  loved  him.  She  had  known 
many  sorrows  in  life.  Her  only  son  had  died  in  the  flush 
of  his  manhood.  In  this  dead  boy  she  wept  for  him  again. 

Jasper  left  Bunny's  body  in  the  hands  of  women. 
Outside  the  door  he  met  Alicia.  She  had  taken  off  her 
hat  and  gloves.  Her  face  was  very  white  and  drawn, 
but  her  eyes  were  dry. 

"  That  girl  ?  "  she  queried. 

"  I  am  going  to  her,"  said  Jasper.  u  I  knew  their 
story  from  the  beginning." 

"  He  said  she  walked  from  London." 

«  Yes." 

"  She  must  stay  here.  I  will  have  a  room  prepared 
for  her.  If  you  will  bring  her  to  the  house,  you  will 
find  all  in  readiness." 

Jasper  regarded  her  in  amazement. 

"  You  are  the  noblest  woman  that  God  ever  made," 
he  said. 

278 


The  Usurper 

"No,"  she  replied,  meeting  his  eyes  full.  "I  am 
trying  to  be  just.  Can  I  go  to  him  ?  " 

For  answer,  he  opened  the  bedroom  door.  She  en- 
tered, and  the  door  closed.  He  went  back  to  the 
little  nook  behind  the  rhododendrons.  All  things  were 
wrapped  in  August  twilight.  Vittoria  still  lay  upon 
the  ground.  Some  distance  off  was  her  black  straw  hat. 
In  the  long  Indian  chair  the  cushion  retained  the  im- 
pression of  Bunny's  body,  as  he  had  rested  upon  it.  At 
the  foot  of  the  chair  was  a  crumpled  piece  of  paper; 
on  the  little  cane  table  Bunny's  cap  his  case  of  cigar- 
ettes, and  a  writing-pad  with  a  pencil  across  it.  Vit- 
toria did  not  move.  Jasper  took  up  the  writing-pad, 
saw  that  there  were  words  upon  it,  and  thrust  it  into  his 
pocket.  Then  he  went  to  Vittoria.  With  patience  and 
tenderness  he  conveyed  to  her  frantic  brain  the  fact  that 
she  was  to  remain  at  Greybrooke,  at  least  for  the  night. 
He  raised  her  to  her  feet.  She  followed  him  stupidly. 
Half-way  across  the  lawn  he  met  the  housekeeper. 

"  Is  this  the  young  lady  ?  "  she  asked.  u  Her  lady- 
ship has  given  me  her  instructions." 

He  resigned  Vittoria  to  her  charge.  Then  sat  down 
upon  a  garden-seat  under  the  sycamore-tree,  his  elbows 
on  his  knees,  his  head  in  his  hands.  Bunny  was  dead. 
The  bright  eager  life  was  quenched.  To  realise  it 
staggered  thought.  It  seemed  as  if,  for  the  first  time 
in  man's  experience,  death  were  in  the  world.  And  the 
world  seemed  to  shiver  with  the  despair  of  a  great 
darkness.  Bunny  was  dead.  The  words  struck  upon 
his  brain  with  dull  iteration  like  the  tolling  of  a  bell. 

279 


The  Usurper 

The  quick  spirit  so  much  in  love  with  living  in  spite 
of  the  lassitude  of  latter  days,  so  filled  with  the  pagan 
horror  of  death,  would  no  more  make  its  joyousness 
felt  upon  the  earth.  The  voice  was  mute.  There 
would  be  no  more  music.  An  irreparable  calamity  had 
fallen  upon  the  land.  Bunny  was  dead.  And  Jasper 
sat  there  and  cried  like  a  woman. 

Twilight  was  deepening.  The  sultry  oppression  of 
the  day  had  culminated  in  suffocating  heat.  Black 
clouds  hung  low  over  the  trees.  There  was  a  flash  of 
lightning,  a  crash  of  thunder,  and  the  storm  burst.  Jas- 
per crossed  the  lawn  and  entered  the  drawing-room 
again.  The  doctor  arrived,  gave  a  certificate  of  death. 
Failure  of  the  heart's  action.  The  rheumatic  fever  had 
produced  cardiac  complications.  It  was  to  be  regretted, 
said  he  to  Jasper,  that  the  lad  should  have  been  subjected 
to  sudden  emotional  strain,  especially  with  his  sensitive 
temperament.  It  was  a  shocking  thing.  A  young 
man  of  genius.  It  would  be  a  great  blow  to  her  lady- 
ship. Nothing  more  could  be  done  or  said.  Jasper, 
who  usually  suffered  all  classes  of  men  gladly,  was 
not  sorry  when  the  kind-hearted  platitudinist  had  gone. 
Left  alone,  he  stood  at  the  window  regarding  the  storm. 
He  remembered  how  Bunny  delighted  in  thunder  and 
lightning.  He  used  to  say  that  it  exhilarated  him,  sent 
the  blood  dancing  in  his  veins.  Only  a  few  days  ago 
he  had  been  describing  in  his  wild,  picturesque  way  a 
terrific  storm  at  sea  on  his  voyage  out.  And  at  the  end 
of  his  gorgeous  imagery  he  had  added,  u  It  really  was 
ripping  !  "  And  now  the  lightning  flashed  before  blind 

280 


The  Usurper 

eyes,  and  the  thunder  crashed  upon  deaf  ears,  and  the 
blood  danced  no  longer  in  the  veins. 

A  servant  came  to  say  that  her  ladyship  begged  that 
he  would  remain,  as  she  desired  to  see  him.  Dinner 
would  be  ready  in  five  minutes.  Her  ladyship  hoped 
that  he  would  excuse  Lady  Luxmoore  and  herself  from 
joining  him.  He  sent  the  reply  that  he  held  himself 
entirely  at  her  ladyship's  service.  A  short  while  later 
he  made  a  pretence  of  dining.  His  place  had  been  laid 
at  the  seat  which  he  had  occupied  the  evening  before. 
Only  twenty-four  hours  ago  Bunny  had  sat  at  the  end 
of  the  table  at  his  right.  He  had  looked  so  happy.  It 
was  the  first  time  he  had  worn  a  dinner-jacket  which  he 
had  ordered  from  London  on  his  sudden  accession  to  a 
vast  banking-account  of  a  couple  of  hundred  pounds  or 
so  and  a  cheque  book.  Just  before  dinner  he  had 
anxiously  consulted  Alicia  and  Jasper  as  to  the  fit  of 
the  garment.  And  during  dinner  Jasper  had  clasped 
a  hand  of  each,  and  out  of  his  heart  had  prayed  God 
to  bless  them. 

Coffee  was  brought  him  in  the  library,  where  he  lit  his 
pipe.  It  was  the  room  especially  apportioned  to  Bunny. 
Sad  traces  of  his  occupancy  were  everywhere.  He  had 
thrown  his  pen  across  the  open  blotting-book  on  the 
writing-table;  and  Bunny  had  a  schoolboy  trick  of 
chewing  the  end  of  his  penholder.  Jasper  put  the 
maimed  thing  in  his  pocket.  His  pipe  over,  he  returned 
to  the  drawing-room,  resumed  his  station  by  the  window. 
The  thunder  had  ceased,  but  the  rain  fell  steadily 
through  black  night.  He  wondered  whether  they  had 

281 


The  Usurper 

remembered  to  bring  in  Bunny's  chair,  and  then  an 
instant  afterwards  it  flashed  upon  him  drearily  that  it 
did  not  matter. 

Presently  Alicia  entered.  She  wore  a  tea-gown  of 
dark  material.  Her  face  looked  very  white  by  contrast. 
He  met  her  in  the  middle  of  the  room  and  held  her 
hand,  which  was  quite  cold. 

"  You  have  been  crying,"  she  said  in  an  even  voice. 
"I  wish  I  could.  Tears  would  help  me.  Something 
inside  me  wants  unlocking.  I  don't  know  what  it  is." 

"  Tears  will  come,"  said  Jasper.  "  You  must  wait. 
I  wish  to  God  I  could  be  of  help  to  you." 

"  You  are  everything  outside  myself  that  I  have.  It 
is  God's  mercy  that  you  are  here." 

He  yearned  over  her  in  her  tearless  grief. 

"  It  is  a  good  thing,  my  dear,  to  have  loved  him," 
said  he. 

Her  eyelids  fluttered  for  a  moment.  "Let  us  sit 
down,"  she  said.  u  I  can't  rest  until  I  know  all  between 
those  two.  Tell  me  everything  that  has  come  within 
your  knowledge.  It  would  be  truest  loyalty  not  to  try 
to  spare  me  —  loyalty  to  me  and  to  him." 

He  regarded  her  with  wondering  admiration. 

"  You  have  a  heart  of  steel,  Alicia." 

"  It  is  not  a  thing  for  a  woman  to  be  proud  of,"  she 
said  with  unaccustomed  bitterness. 

"  Surely  the  brave  soul  —  "  he  began.  But  she  cut 
him  short. 

"  The  story,  Jasper,  the  story  ! " 

So  he  told  her  all  the  sorrowful  tale  as  he  knew  it, 
282 


The  Usurper 

from  his  first  introduction  to  Vittoria,  when  he  dined 
with  Bunny  at  the  Hotel  Bomboni,  to  the  last  frantic 
night  in  the  rooms  in  Great  Coram  Street ;  and  Alicia 
sat  and  listened  with  a  set  face. 

u  Why  do  you  think  she  came  this  afternoon  ?  "  she 
asked,  when  he  had  finished. 

He  drew  from  his  pocket-book  the  newspaper  cutting 
that  Cudby  had  sent  him  yesterday,  and  handed  it  to  her. 

"  If  only  I  had  shown  it  to  Bunny  this  morning  !  " 
he  said  remorsefully. 

u  Which  of  us  is  more  guilty,  you  who  tried  to  save 
him  pain,  or  I  who  did  n't.  Which  of  us  loved  him 
more  ?  " 

"  My  dear,"  said  Jasper,  very  tenderly,  "  I  loved 
him  as  a  father  or  an  elder  brother.  You  loved  him  as 
the  woman  who  was  to  be  his  wife.  The  two  things 
are  very  different." 

"  It  was  also  for  my  sake — chiefly  for  my  sake  that 
you  did  not  show  him  this." 

"  Your  interests  and  his  were  one  to  me." 

"  But  in  your  heart  you  think  that  this  girl  would  have 
been  a  fitter  mate  for  him  than  I." 

Her  words  flashed  a  tragic  illumination  on  his  mind, 
in  the  instant  of  his  saying  in  inspired  conviction,  "  No, 
a  thousand  times,  No  ! "  Either  woman,  would  have 
been  disastrous  for  Bunny.  Alicia  continued  in  her 
calm  unemotional  tones, — 

u  Yet  you  knew  they  were  all  in  all  to  one  another 
—  otherwise  you  would  not  have  led  me  away  this 
afternoon,  telling  me  to  leave  them  together." 

283 


The  Usurper 

Said  Jasper :  "  The  time  had  passed  for  her  to  do 
him  harm." 

"  Still  you  knew  that  it  was  her  place  to  be  beside 
him,  and  not  mine." 

Jasper  drew  a  long  breath.  All  his  love  for  her  could 
not  avail  for  tenderness  against  this  deadly  logic,  yet 
he  tried  to  smooth  her  path. 

"  It  was  the  only  way  to  avoid  horrible  pain.  You 
were  a  great  lady  who  had  learned  self-restraint  —  she 
an  undisciplined  girl  of  the  people  who  would  have 
fought  for  possession." 

Alicia  shook  her  head  sadly. 

u  Your  heart  is  infinite  kindness,  dear  Jasper.  But  you 
are  speaking  now  to  the  bare  soul  of  a  woman  that  can't 
be  deceived.  You  are  a  man  of  absolute  uprightness  and 
justice.  You  are  a  man  of  strong  will.  If  you  had  felt 
that  it  had  been  my  right  and  not  hers,  it  is  n't  Jasper  Vel- 
lacot  that  would  have  surrendered  it.  Be  frank,  Jasper." 

"  Why  insist  ?  Why  run  knives  needlessly  into 
yourself?  " 

"  I  must  put  myself  right  with  my  dead.  I  felt  it  in 
the  stupor  of  this  afternoon,  and  I  told  you  that  the  girl 
should  stay  here.  Now  you  have  told  me  the  story. 
I  understand  it  all.  I  know  what  was  in  her  mind 
when  they  parted.  I  know  what  she  went  through 
during  the  time  of  absence.  I  know  why  she  ran  away 
the  night  before  her  wedding  day  without  money  to  pay 
her  railway  fare.  One  day  she  will  tell  me  and  it  will 
be  mere  details  that  I  shall  have  to  learn.  For  instance, 
I  don't  quite  see  how  she  knew  Bunny  was  here.  It 

284 


The  Usurper 

was  through  no  action  of  Bunny's.     He  never  wrote  to 
her,  or  she  to  him." 

"  Upon  that  I  would  stake  my  immortal  soul,"  cried 
Jasper.  u  He  was  a  man  of  fierce  honour." 

u  And  so  would  have  come  to  take  my  hand  to-day," 
replied  Alicia,  slowly.  "  That  is  why  I  will  put  myself 
right  with  him.  She  is  in  his  room  now  beside  him. 
And  she  shall  stay.  And  I  can't  cry,  Jasper." 

"  Go  into  the  library,  where  all  his  things  are  lying 
about,"  he  said  unsteadily. 

"  I  would  I  were  dead  by  his  side,"  said  Alicia.  She 
put  her  hands  to  her  head.  "  Oh,  God,"  she  exclaimed, 
with  a  sudden  rush  of  passion,  "  if  I  had  n't  you  to  speak 
to,  I  should  go  mad.  You  are  the  one  being  in  the  world 
to  whom  I  can  speak." 

"  And  I  have  only  told  you  painful  things,  I  am  afraid." 

"  Things  that  only  the  most  devoted  of  friends  could 
say.  I  shall  never  forget." 

They  talked  awhile  longer.  Of  yesterday  and  of  the 
days  before.  Of  his  poetry.  And  then  Jasper  remem- 
bered the  writing-pad  that  he  had  thrust  into  the  side 
pocket  of  his  tweed  jacket.  He  drew  it  out. 

"These  must  be  the  last  lines  he  ever  wrote,"  said 
he.  They  bent  over  the  pad  together.  On  the  top  was 
written,  "  The  Villanelle  of  the  Fair  Queen  Alicia,"  and 
below  was  scribbled  the  random  triplet  that  had  first 
shaped  itself  in  his  mind  to  the  refrain.  It  ran  :  — 

'*  Of  all  the  queens,  the  queenliest  one 
Points  out  to  me  across  the  lake 
A  Valley  in  Avilion." 

285 


The  Usurper 

Her  very  lips  grew  white. 

u  It  is  prophetic,"  she  said  in  a  breathless  voice. 

"  Prophetic  ?  "  he  echoed.  "  Why  ?  Was  n't  Avil- 
ion  a  name  for  the  Fortunate  Isles  —  the  Land  of 
Heart's  Desire?  I  remember  Cudby  and  he  once  had  a 
long  discussion  about  it.  He  was  looking  forward  to  the 
happy  days  of  your  married  life." 

"  It  was  to  Avalon  that  the  dying  king  was  rowed 
across  the  lake  by  the  weeping  queens." 

"  And  the  legend  was  that  he  would  come  back  glo- 
rious and  strong  again  to  rule  the  world.  And  that  was 
what  our  dear  boy  meant,"  said  Jasper,  seizing  at  the 
first  specious  argument  to  hand,  so  as  to  comfort  her. 
He  took  a  paper-knife  from  a  table  near,  and  slipped  the 
page  off  the  pad,  and  folded  it  neatly. 

u  Keep  it,  my  dear,"  said  he.  "  This  at  least  is  your 
very  own." 

Alicia  looked  at  the  hastily  written  words  for  a  long 
time.  Then  she  shook  her  head. 

"  No,  I  had  better  not  keep  it,"  she  said.  She  rose 
and  went  to  the  mantelpiece  on  which  two  wax  candles 
were  burning  beneath  red  shades.  Unfixing  the  shade 
of  one,  she  burned  the  paper  until  only  a  little  white 
flake  remained  between  her  finger  and  thumb.  The 
ashes  fell  on  to  the  hearth.  She  turned  quietly  to 
Jasper. 

u  Would  you  care  to  see  him  ?  " 

He  assented.  They  walked  slowly  up  to  Bunny's 
room.  Outside  the  door  he  paused. 

"  Are  you  strong  enough  to  bear  it  ?  "  he  whispered. 
'  286 


The  Usurper 

u  The  world  does  not  seem  to  hold  the  burden  I  could 
not  bear,"  she  replied. 

They  entered.  The  room  was  dimly  lit.  On  the 
ground,  huddled  against  the  bedside,  rested  Vittoria. 
They  saw  she  had  dropped  asleep,  through  exhaustion, 
her  head  on  her  arm.  Alicia  passed  her,  treading 
softly,  and  took  a  lamp  from  the  dressing-table,  and 
returning,  held  it  with  steady  hand  over  the  bed  where 
Bunny  lay,  his  bright  eyes  hidden  for  ever  beneath  the 
closed  lids. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THEN  there  came  days  of  hushed  voices  and  muffled 
sounds  and  darkened  rooms  and  an  oppressive 
sense  of  life  at  half  pressure.  The  weather  had  broken. 
The  hours  of  rain  from  a  sad  sky  harmonised  with  the 
dreariness  of  things.  The  intervals  of  hot  sunshine 
jarred.  And  one  day  a  train  from  town  brought  many 
sorrowful  faces  to  Greybrooke.  Among  them  Cudby 
—  tears  making  his  gold-rimmed  eyeglass  difficult  of 
control. 

Elinor  Currey  was  there,  red-eyed.  Alicia  took  her  to 
her  heart,  whispered  "  My  poor  Elinor."  The  girl, 
comforted  by  kind  arms  around  her,  confessed  miserably. 
She  had  strung  herself  up  to  play  the  consoler.  Alicia 
in  no  way  demanded  consolation,  and  positions  were  oddly 
reversed.  The  appearance  on  a  heart-rending  scene  of 
a  girl  with  wan  face  and  dusky  Italian  eyes  moved  Elinor 
to  wonderment  in  spite  of  her  misery.  When  the  decen- 
cies of  life  permitted,  she  questioned  Alicia. 

"  The  one  woman  he  loved :  the  one  woman  who 
loved  him."  And  seeing  a  flash  of  contradiction  on  the 
other's  face,  she  added,  "No,  dearest.  Don't  let  us 
deceive  ourselves.  Let  us  face  facts," 

"  And  the  facts  ?  " 

"  You  shall  know  them  all.  One  winter  afternoon, 
before  the  fire,  when  you  and  I  can  talk." 

288 


The  Usurper 

u  She  is  beautiful,"  said  Elinor,  heroically. 

"  She  is  The  Chian  Wine  and  the  Carmma  Amorls" 

u  You  have  her  here  to  stay  with  you  ?  What  are 
you  made  of,  you  dear  woman  ?  " 

"  I  have  been  trying  to  find  out  for  the  past  week/' 
said  Alicia. 

Elinor  did  not  question  further.  It  was  not  an  hour 
for  beguiling  confidences.  Besides,  the  heart  of  Alicia's 
poor  mystery  needed  no  very  deep  plucking.  The  eye 
to  see  beheld  it  beating  piteously  beneath  her  impassive- 
ness.  Elinor  turned  off  to  common  memories  and  shed  not 
a  few  tears,  thereby  claiming  the  tenderest  in  her  friend. 

The  anguished  day  came  to  an  end  and  the  sorrowful 
company  departed.  All  that  remained  of  the  well- 
beloved  lay  beneath  the  wet  grass  in  the  little  churchyard 
clustering  round  the  Gothic  steeple  that  could  be  seen 
from  the  lawn  of  Greybrooke ;  and  to  Alicia  her  house 
was  left  finally  desolate.  After  a  mournful  travesty  of 
a  meal  with  Lady  Luxmoore,  she  retired  to  her  own 
morning-room  upstairs,  craving  loneliness.  A  small  fire 
burned  on  the  hearth,  as  the  evening  after  days  of  wet 
was  chilly.  Much  of  her  committee  work  had  been 
carried  on  since  the  early  summer  in  this  room ;  and 
evidences  of  it  in  the  shape  of  neatly  docketed  papers, 
reports,  patterns  of  woollen  stuffs,  tracings  of  archi- 
tectural plans  were  scattered  about  amid  many  luxuries 
—  dainty  furniture,  rare  china,  delicate  water-colours,  a 
world  of  costly  knick-knacks.  A  photograph  of  Bunny 
enlarged  on  porcelain  stood  framed  in  old  Italian  silver 
on  the  mantelpiece,  and  on  a  Sheraton  table  near  by 
19  289 


The  Usurper 

the  slim  volumes  of  Bunny's  verse  reposed  in  sumptuous 
bindings  designed  especially  for  her  by  Edory  the  Acad- 
emician. It  was  a  chamber  of  many  vanities.  Alicia 
summed  them  up  one  by  one  as  she  sat  before  the  fire. 

Her  maid  came  in  with  a  packet  and  a  note.  Mr.  Vel- 
lacot's  messenger  had  brought  them.  "  I  have  made 
Bond,"  wrote  Jasper,  "  give  me  a  sleeping-draught  for 
you.  You  will  please  take  it.  If  you  don't  sleep,  you 
will  get  ill  and  that  would  be  silly.  Do  be  your  own 
sweet  self  and  please,  Yours,  J.  V."  She  gave  the  bottle 
to  the  maid. 

"  Put  this  in  the  bedroom.  I  will  take  it  before  I  go 
to  bed." 

She  dismissed  the  girl,  wondered  at  Jasper's  kindness 
and  perception.  She  had  told  no  one,  not  even  Dr. 
Bond,  of  her  sleeplessness.  How  did  he  know  it  ?  He 
seemed  to  have  the  genius  of  helping  humanity  in  great 
things  and  small.  Perhaps  in  the  small  things  he  rose 
higher  than  in  the  great  —  for  in  them  the  heart  speaks 
most  humanly.  Two  or  three  days  before  a  trunk  full 
of  necessaries  had  come  for  Vittoria  Antonelli  —  her 
own  belongings.  Jasper,  unasked,  had  gone  to  London 
and  brought  the  trunk  back  with  him.  How  he  had 
prevailed  over  the  baffled  Italians  he  had  not  said.  It 
was  his  way  to  do  things  masterfully.  But  the  fact  of  a 
man  with  all  his  burden  of  cares  and  responsibilities 
thinking  of  a  poor  girl's  wardrobe  had  given  her  a  won- 
dering and  disquieting  conception  of  Jasper's  wider 
horizon. 

He  was  a  man  who  saw  life  steadily  and  whole.  She 
290 


The  Usurper 

saw  it  in  little  glittering  bits.  It  was  herself  that  she  be- 
held reflected  in  the  room.  All  her  philanthropies  were 
elegant  triflings.  Her  delicate  emotionalities  skimmed 
like  agreeable  swallows  over  the  surface  of  sentiment, 
ever  and  anon  dipping  the  tip  of  a  wing.  A  fald-stool,  its 
rest  supporting  an  open  illuminated  missal,  stood  in  a  far 
corner.  She  had  played  at  religion  as  she  had  played  at 
enthusiasms  for  art,  for  poetry,  for  benevolence.  And 
she  had  played  at  love.  It  was  the  appalling  knowledge 
of  this  that  had  kept  her  awake  of  nights,  had  paralysed 
her  woman's  heart. 

She  had  not  loved  Bunny. 

She  had  not  known  what  love  meant.  She  had  mis- 
taken the  moon  for  the  sun.  It  had  been  reserved  for 
this  half-wild  girl  not  only  to  teach  her  the  first  elements 
of  love,  but  to  overwhelm  her  with  full  revelation  of 
passion's  significance.  By  its  side  her  own  adumbra- 
tion of  it  had  become  a  thing  of  naught.  In  the  hot 
sunshine  the  moon  is  a  pale  futility. 

The  girl's  glance  of  scorn  when  she  had  claimed  to 
love  him  equally  withered  all  the  pretty  flowers  beneath 
which  she  had  hidden  her  soul.  The  soul  was  bare 
now,  and  the  glance  still  beat  upon  it,  and  the  torment 
banished  sleep.  It  dried  the  fountain  of  her  tears.  It 
robbed  her  of  normal  expression  of  grief  for  one  who 
at  least  in  the  way  of  kinship  and  sweet  friendship 
was  inexpressibly  dear  to  her.  The  days  had  been  a 
nightmare  of  isolation  from  human  sympathies.  She 
felt  herself  to  be  like  an  iridescent  bubble  that  had  burst 
and  had  no  further  existence  for  the  world  around. 

291 


The  Usurper 

The  essential  pride  and  uprightness  of  her  nature 
saved  her  from  prostration.  She  had  spent  her  life  in 
agreeable  trifles,  but  yet  she  was  capable  of  great  action. 
She  despised  pettiness.  Race  helped  her.  In  perform- 
ing what  she  considered  to  be  an  act  of  justice  she  was 
scornfully  merciless  to  herself.  Pride  caused  her  to 
exaggerate  perhaps  the  deference  with  which  she  com- 
manded that  Vittoria  should  be  treated  in  her  house,  and 
to  disregard  the  wagging  of  conjecturing  tongues.  It 
kept  her  calm,  impassive,  outwardly  sympathetic.  Also, 
something  of  the  eternal  woman  felt  agonised  satisfac- 
tion in  turning  the  knife  in  the  wound.  Woman  is  an 
instinctive  martyr. 

Her  head  ached  and  her  eyes  burned.  The  gold- 
topped  phial  of  smelling  salts  that  lay  by  the  lace  hand- 
kerchief in  her  lap  gleamed  the  grotesque  parody  of  a 
restorative.  She  could  not  rest,  began  to  move  about 
the  room  among  her  vanities.  Looked  long  and  tear- 
lessly  at  Bunny's  photograph,  taken  since  his  return. 
Opened  the  Carmina  Amoris  and  read  some  pages. 
Smitten  with  sudden  understanding,  she  sat  down  again 
and  read  with  her  new  and  torturing  vision  the  palpitat- 
ing passion  which  once  had  conveyed  no  meaning  to 
her,  which  she  had  once  condemned  as  extravagant  and 
abnormal.  She  remembered  how  she  had  said  to  Jasper, 
after  the  reading  of  The  Ckian  Wine,  "  Any  one  can 
lead  a  calm,  rational,  equable  existence.  So  long  as  one 
is  sane  .  .  .  This  play  makes  me  shiver  as  if  I  had  been 
among  mad  people."  The  memory  scourged  her.  She 
felt  an  aching  jealousy  of  the  girl  to  whom  these  things 

292 


The  Usurper 

had  been  as  real  as  the  sun  that  warmed  her  and  the  air 
she  breathed.  Why  had  she  herself,  with  all  the  fairness 
of  the  world  within  her  grasp,  lived  her  life  without 
knowing  them  ?  Why  had  he  not  taught  her  ?  The 
answer  to  the  question  added  to  her  humiliation.  She 
was  not  the  woman  for  him  to  teach. 

And  remorse  poignantly  tragic  dwelt  terrifyingly  at  the 
back  of  her  mind.  How  far  was  she  personally  respon- 
sible for  Bunny's  death  ?  Before  she  took  her  sleeping- 
draught  that  night  she  fell  on  her  knees  and  prayed  to 
God  the  prayers  of  a  soul  in  need. 

She  awoke  the  next  morning  physically  better.  She 
had  slept.  She  rose  and  breakfasted,  and  faced  the  small 
routine  of  her  day.  Life  had  to  be  lived.  She  went  out 
of  doors  to  discuss  deferred  questions  with  her  gardener. 
The  weather  was  fine,  and  she  drew  refreshment  from 
the  sunshine  and  the  clear  air.  Jasper,  calling  to  make 
enquiries,  found  her  on  the  terrace  in  consultation  over 
flower-beds.  They  conversed  awhile,  then  he  left  to 
attend  to  his  correspondence,  promising  to  return  for 
lunch.  They  had  not  had  a  meal  together  since  the 
night  of  Bunny's  death.  She  went  back  to  her  flowers. 
A  few  moments  later  she  saw  Vittoria,  dressed  for  walk- 
ing, with  gloves  and  hat,  approaching  from  the  other  end 
of  the  terrace. 

Alicia  gave  a  final  order  to  the  gardener  and  advanced 
to  meet  her.  Beyond  an  occasional  salutation  when  they 
passed,  and  an  occasional  enquiry  as  to  the  guest's  com- 
fort they  had  as  yet  had  no  speech  together.  This  morning 
the  girl  obviously  sought  an  interview.  She  spoke  first. 

293 


The  Usurper 

"  I  have  come  to  say  good-bye  and  to  thank  your 
ladyship  for  your  most  wonderful  kindness." 

"  Why  need  you  go  ?  "  asked  Alicia.  u  You  are  very 
welcome  here  as  long  as  it  is  convenient  to  you  to 
stay." 

"  My  only  excuse  for  staying  is  gone,  your  lady- 
ship." 

It  was  only  then  that  Alicia  remarked  the  rich  sweet- 
ness of  her  voice  and  her  admirable  refinement  of  manner. 
Her  last  words  were  toned  with  deep  pathos.  The  de- 
fiance had  melted  from  her,  and  she  stood  before  Lady 
Alicia,  humble  and  sad.  Alicia  felt  pity  for  the  girl. 

u  I  should  be  sorry  to  let  you  go  without  knowing 
more  of  you,  —  if  you  will  let  me  ?  "  she  said. 

"  Your  ladyship  is  all  generosity,"  answered  Vittoria. 

"  My  friends  say  '  Lady  Alicia  '  —  not  '  your  lady- 
ship.' " 

"  But  I  am  not  your  equal.  Oh  no  —  no  !  You 
don't  know  who  and  what  I  am.  You  have  treated  me 
as  if  I  were  a  lady.  I  am  only  a  common  girl." 

u  Hush,  my  dear,"  said  Alicia.  "  What  we  have 
passed  through  abolishes  difference  of  rank  between  us. 
I  know  all  that  need  be  known  —  believe  me.  Let  us 
walk  up  and  down  a  little." 

They  paced  the  terrace  slowly,  side  by  side.  After  a 
pause  Alicia  continued,  — 

u  I  have  no  wish  to  pry  into  your  affairs.  But  before 
you  leave  my  roof  I  should  like  to  have  some  assurance 
as  to  your  immediate  future." 

Vittoria  turned  wondering  eyes  upon  her. 
294 


The  Usurper 

"  I  don't  understand.  Why  should  you  care  what 
happens  to  me  ?  " 

"  In  the  first  place,  you  are  my  guest  —  and  a  young 
girl.  And  as  I  am  much  older  than  you,  I  feel  some 
responsibility.  Besides  —  for  the  sake  of  some  one 
lying  over  there." 

Tears  started  to  the  girl's  eyes.  She  wiped  them  away 
hastily  and  checked  a  sob.  To  Alicia's  further  urging 
she  murmured  incoherent  words  of  thanks.  In  her 
present  chastened  mood  she  felt  acutely  the  difference  of 
social  —  almost  of  spiritual  —  level.  She  had  never  met 
a  great  lady  before.  She  was  seized  by  shyness  mingled 
with  wonder  and  ungrudging  admiration.  In  Lady 
Alicia  was  the  same  indefinable  quality  of  the  aristocrat 
which  she  had  been  quick  to  note  and  to  prize  in  Bunny. 
Like  him,  Lady  Alicia  viewed  things  from  an  unattainable 
standpoint.  The  loftiness  of  mind  and  scorn  of  mean- 
ness which  she  had  attributed  to  no  other  being  but  him, 
she  found  were  the  portion  of  both.  Superior  to  her  own 
class,  she  had  been  fond  of  speaking  slightingly  of  women 
—  provided  of  course  that  no  man,  not  even  Bunny, 
joined  in  the  depreciation,  for  then  her  sex  took  up  de- 
fensive weapons.  But  here  was  a  woman  who  stood 
immeasurable  heights  above  her  vulgar  category,  and 
Vittoria  beheld  her  as  a  legendary  queen  who  had  revisited 
the  earth.  At  first  the  girl  had  been  too  much  dazed 
with  misery  to  be  conscious  of  surroundings.  External 
forces  placed  her  by  the  side  of  the  passionately  loved 
dead,  and  there  she  had  remained  and  had  her  being. 
Dream  hands  had  given  her  food  and  aided  her  to  change 

295 


The  Usurper 

her  raiment  and  led  her  to  rest,  and  dream  figures  had 
withdrawn  before  her  when  she  moved  towards  the 
darkened  room.  Her  passage  from  torpor  to  speculative 
life  had  been  but  gradual.  It  was  only  on  the  morning 
of  the  day  before  that  she  had  awakened  to  the  full 
knowledge  of  what  had  happened,  of  where  she  was,  of 
the  marvellous  kindness  she  had  received  from  the  woman 
whom  she  had  taunted  and  to  whom  all  around  her 
referred  almost  reverentially  as  "  her  ladyship."  Vittoria 
had  burned  with  shame,  and  to-day  had  come  to  take  her 
leave.  But  until  this  walk  on  the  terrace  she  had  not 
been  guided  to  the  sources  of  the  lady's  magnanimity. 
Now  they  were  revealed  to  her  abashed  eyes.  Now  for 
the  first  time  she  realised  the  atmosphere  that  had  been 
Bunny's  inheritance.  Poor  as  he  was,  he  entered  by 
inalienable  right  this  world  of  grace  and  chivalrous  feel- 
ing. Women,  fragrant  of  soul,  delicate  of  thought,  noble 
of  deed  like  the  perfect  fair  lady  by  her  side,  were  his 
natural  companions.  She  thought,  with  inevitable  rush, 
of  the  Hotel  Bomboni.  She  saw,  infinitely  magnified, 
the  depths  to  which  he  had  stooped  to  offer  her  his  love. 
Lady  Alicia  in  this  fair  garden  :  herself  leaning  over  the 
counter  of  the  fly-blown  restaurant,  with  Giuseppe  in  the 
background  —  the  contrast  brought  a  shudder.  How 
had  she  dared  love  him  ?  How  had  she  dared  send  him 
away  ?  And  for  the  first  time  too  she  realised  in  the 
fibres  of  her  being  how  horrible  had  been  to  him  the 
abomination  of  her  words. 

For  some  moments  she  lost  herself  in  this  woeful  dis- 
may, just  conscious  of  the  music  of  a  kind  voice  in  her 

296 


The  Usurper 

ear.  Then  she  roused  herself  with  an  effort,  and  the 
voice  grew  articulate  and  Lady  Alicia  seemed  remoter  in 
her  serene  heights  than  before. 

"  You  see,  I  know  all  the  circumstances  in  which  you 
left  your  home,"  she  was  saying.  "  Do  you  propose  to 
go  back  ? " 

"  Home  ?  to  the  Hotel  Bomboni  ?  " 

"  Yes.     Are  you  returning  ?  " 

"  Oh  no  —  no  —  never  in  life,"  she  cried.  "  It  is  too 
horrible.  It  is  too  unclean.  It  reeks  with  all  that  was 
worst  in  me,  all  that  he  should  never  have  known. 
Oh,  I  should  not  have  dragged  him  down  there.  It 
is  through  me  he  is  dead  now.  I  wish  he  had  killed 
me  instead.  But  I  loved  him  so.  Oh,  I  loved  him 
so!" 

She  flung  her  arms  upon  one  of  the  stone  vases  that 
flanked  the  flight  of  steps  leading  from  terrace  to  lawn, 
and  broke  into  a  passion  of  sobs.  Alicia  put  her  arm 
round  her  shoulders  and  spoke  tenderly.  The  paroxysm 
over,  Vittoria  lifted  a  tear-stained  face. 

"  What  does  it  matter  what  happens  to  me  ?  The 
sun  and  moon  and  all  the  bright  stars  have  gone  out  of 
the  sky." 

"  You  said  that  just  as  he  would  have  said  it,"  whis- 
pered Alicia,  startled  by  an  echo  of  a  dead  voice.  And 
for  the  first  time  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

u  It  is  because  I  loved  him  so.  I  remember  the  tone 
of  every  word  he  has  ever  spoken  to  me." 

"  You  have  loved  a  brave  gentleman  and  a  great  poet. 
It  is  something." 

297 


The  Usurper 

"  And  the  most  beautiful  soul  God  ever  made,"  cried 
the  girl. 

"  Yes,"  said  Alicia,  looking  at  her  wonderingly  through 
a  mist,  for  the  phrase  was  an  illumination,  —  u  a  beau- 
tiful soul.  You  have  seen  more  than  we  others.  You 
were  nearer  to  him  than  any  of  us." 

"Ah  no  !  "  said  Vittoria^  u  It  was  you  that  were 
nearest  to  him,  my  lady.  He  should  have  married  the 
queen  that  was  fitted  for  him." 

"  No  woman  was  fit  for  him  —  not  even  you,  my  dear, 
with  your  beauty  and  your  love  and  your  understanding 
—  but  you  were  the  fittest." 

She  moved  away  from  the  side  of  the  steps  where  they 
had  been  standing,  and  Vittoria  moving  with  her,  they 
continued  their  walk  along  the  terrace,  not  speaking. 
Alicia  was  still  bewildered  by  the  illumination.  u  He 
was  a  beautiful  soul."  Human  speech  could  not  have 
presented  the  truth  she  had  missed  more  vividly.  The 
girl  had  touched  the  stars  while  she  was  creeping  on  the 
earth.  Thus  each  abased  herself  and  exalted  the  other. 

The  footman  approached.  Miss  Antonelli's  luggage 
had  been  taken  to  the  station,  as  she  had  ordered.  The 
train  was  due  to  start  in  twenty  minutes.  It  was  an  easy 
ten  minutes  walk  to  the  station. 

"  Miss  Antonelli  particularly  said  she  would  walk, 
my  lady,"  added  the  man  in  response  to  gathering  re- 
buke in  her  ladyship's  eyes. 

"  It  is  my  fault,"  said  Vittoria,  as  the  footman  retired. 
"  I  took  upon  myself  to  give  emphatic  orders.  I  must 

go-" 

298 


The  Usurper 

"  But  where  ?  " 

"  Friends  I  know  will  house  me  till  I  can  get  work." 

u  But  what  work  ?  You  must  let  us  help  you,  my 
dear  child.  We  —  I  —  Mr.  Vellacot  —  can  provide 
easily  for  your  future." 

"  Mr.  Vellacot  talked  to  me  yesterday,"  said  Vittoria, 
regaining  her  independence  of  bearing,  "  and  I  said  c  no.* 
He  used  all  the  arguments." 

"  He 's  a  wonderful  man,"  said  Alicia.  "  He  thinks 
of  everything.  But  because  you  said  c  no  '  to  him  yes- 
terday, that  is  no  reason  why  you  should  n't  accept  to-day. 
Let  us  help  you  to-day,  for  your  Bon  Ami's  sake." 

She  looked  yearningly  into  the  girl's  eyes.  Vittoria 
softened. 

"  I  am  not  ungrateful.  I  shall  think  of  you  as  of  the 
Madonna  in  heaven  until  I  die.  But  I  have  a  little 
pride  —  all  I  have  left  —  and  I  can  accept  nothing  —  I 
will  work  and  keep  myself  clean  for  him.  I  shall  never 
love  another  man  all  my  life.  I  will  do  penance  for  my 
sins  —  for  all  my  grievous  sins,  my  lady.  As  long  as  he 
lies  under  that  grass,  I  can  come  to  no  harm." 

She  stood  superb,  and  held  Alicia  with  her  deep  pas- 
sionate eyes.  Alicia  said,  — 

"  Will  you  —  will  you  kiss  me  ?  " 

She  advanced  a  step.  Their  lips  touched;  and  then 
as  if  frozen  barriers  were  melted  in  a  miraculous  in- 
stant, the  two  women's  arms  were  around  each  other 
and  their  hearts  rushed  together. 

u  You  will  always  let  me  know  your  whereabouts 
—  you  promise  ? " 

299 


The  Usurper 

"  I  promise,"  said  Vittoria. 

"Once  more — won't  you  let  us  provide  —  not  for 
your  happiness  —  but  for  your  comfort?" 

"  Your  love  is  all  I  want,  and  all  I  '11  take." 

She  flung  her  arms  suddenly  again  about  Alicia  and 
then  was  gone.  Alicia  went  indoors,  and  —  why, 
neither  man  nor  woman  knows,  but  only  the  God  that 
fashioned  the  mystery  of  her  soul  —  she  cast  herself 
upon  the  nearest  resting-place  and  cried  her  heart  out. 


300 


CHAPTER   XXII 

SO  Bunny  was  dead  and  Vittoria  had  gone  forth  into 
the  unknown  with  the  inspired  notion,  poor  girl, 
of  rearing  her  life  as  a  monument  to  his  memory,  and 
Alicia  and  Jasper  were  left  to  face  each  other  alone  ;  not 
only  for  the  remainder  of  Jasper's  holiday  stay  in  Hert- 
fordshire, but  for  a  far-reaching  period  whose  end  was 
hidden  mistily  from  them  both. 

The  link  that  had  curiously  bound,  yet  separated 
them  had  disappeared.  They  could  converge  backward 
upon  a  common  memory,  but  between  them  stood  no 
living  presence  holding  a  hand  of  each.  No  matter  how 
tender  and  how  hallowing  was  that  memory,  each  was 
inwardly  confronted  with  the  complex  problem  of  a  life 
to  be  lived  through,  and  perceived,  according  to  tempera- 
ment, intensity  of  vision  and  standpoint  that  the  other 
was  a  resolving  factor  in  the  problem.  Jasper  saw  it, 
because  he  loved  Alicia  in  the  simple  way  of  man  and 
because  his  untellable  love  was  the  rain  and  sunshine  of 
his  existence.  Alicia  felt  it,  because  she  beheld  him  as 
the  one  unchanging  thing  in  the  unfamiliar  transforma- 
tion that  upheaval  had  brought  about  in  her  inner  life. 
He  was  the  one  human  being  to  whom  she  could  look 
for  understanding  and  for  comfort.  The  woman  was 
in  sore  need.  She  stood  alone  among  the  shattered 

301 


The  Usurper 

emptinesses  that  had  been  her  very  self,  and  this  man 
with  the  grave  rugged  face  and  wistful  eyes,  so  strong,  so 
tender,  was  the  only  creature  that  could  aid  in  the  work 
of  reconstruction.  She  had  talked  bitterly,  remotely  to 
Elinor  Currey,  with  proud  humility  to  Vittoria ;  in  both 
cases  there  had  been  certain  concealment.  To  the 
world  at  large  the  inevitable  mask  must  be  presented. 
But  from  Jasper,  who  knew  all,  no  concealment  was 
necessary.  When  Jasper  found  her  with  face  buried 
among  the  sofa-cushions  at  the  sobbing  end  of  her  first 
passion  of  tears,  and  sat  beside  her,  she  felt  inexpressibly 
grateful  and  comforted,  as  a  child  crying  in  the  dark 
welcomes  a  familiar  presence.  It  was  she  who  bade 
him  not  cut  short  his  holiday ;  to  stay  there  —  for  her 
sake.  He  had  urged  the  fear  of  intruding  on  the  privacy 
of  her  grief.  She  had  answered  that  she  was  not  the 
strong  and  self-sufficing  woman  she  had  thought ;  she 
needed  guidance.  Was  he  not  one  of  her  nearest  of 
kin  ?  To  whom  else  could  she  turn  ?  Any  one  but 
he,  knowing  all,  would  have  despised  her. 

"  For  a  mistake  of  the  heart  ?  "  Jasper  had  said.  "  To 
err  is  human  —  to  acknowledge  it  as  you  have  done, 
divine."  Whereat  she  had  smiled  wanly  and  had  con- 
fessed her  shame  at  realising  herself  as  the  weak-willed 
woman  drifting  helplessly  at  sea.  Jasper  accepted  the 
position  of  guide  and  consoler  in  his  sober  way,  though 
he  was  dismayedly  conscious  that  the  ineradicable  in- 
stinct of  her  sex  pinnacled  him  too  high.  To  Alicia 
he  was  the  lighthouse  tower,  the  same  after  as  before 
the  shipwreck. 

302 


The  Usurper 

She  told  him  so  one  day.  He  looked  away  from  her 
with  the  patient  wistful  gaze  that  had  touched  her  to 
pity  when  they  first  had  met  at  the  opening  of  his 
hospital  at  North  Ham. 

"  A  lighthouse  ?  I  would  to  God  I  were.  I  walk 
on  planks.  The  sea  might  swallow  me  up  at  any 
moment." 

"  How  can  that  be  ?  "  she  asked.  u  No  man  is  on 
firmer  rock  than  you." 

He  checked  a  sigh.     Half-confidences  were  dangerous. 

"  What  do  you  fear  ?  " 

"  Nothing.     Nothing  save  the  loss  of  your  friendship." 

"  You  might  as  well  fear  a  volcanic  eruption  here  at 
your  feet." 

"  Things  more  impossible  have  happened,  you  know," 
said  he,  reflectively.  "  A  man  is  apt  to  judge  the  chances 
of  the  future  by  the  chances  of  the  past.  You  can  count 
on  my  life-long  devotion  to  your  interests,  but  not  upon 
the  certainty  of  it  always  being  valuable  to  you.  Things 
may  happen.  You  may  reject  it." 

u  Never —  "  she  began. 

He  restrained  her  with  uplifted  hand.  u  Don't  make 
rash  vows.  David  says,  '  Put  not  your  trust  in  princes.' 
I  am  a  sort  of  prince — I  rule  a  fair-sized  kingdom, 
according  to  Cudby  —  it  is  his  picturesque  manner 
of  expressing  an  oppressive  fact.  And  the  kingdom 
muddles  along  comfortably,  most  times,  like  the  British 
Empire.  But  as  I  'm  not  a  constitutional  monarch,  only 
an  adventurer  that  has  come  along  and  seized  the  throne, 
my  seat  is  insecure." 

303 


The  Usurper 

"  But  you  did  n't  seize  upon  the  throne.  You  created 
the  kingdom." 

They  were  taking  an  afternoon  stroll  together  through 
the  fields  behind  Greybrooke.  Her  reply  brought  them  to 
a  rustic  stile  in  a  fence.  He  helped  her  over.  The  inci- 
dent broke  the  train  of  conversation.  It  gave  him  pause 
to  reason  down  a  sudden  craving  to  tell  her  the  secret 
history  of  his  kingship.  When  she  steadied  herself,  after 
the  little  jump,  relinquishing  his  hand,  and  broke  wo- 
man-like into  an  irrelevant  cry  of  admiration  at  the 
warm,  peaceful  landscape,  he  felt  unspeakably  relieved. 
He  took  up  the  new  thread  and  adroitly  kept  it  from 
entanglement  with  his  own  affairs  until  they  halted  at 
Greybrooke  gates.  Then  she  said  with  a  half-smile  : 

"  Whether  you  like  it  or  not,  Jasper,  I  've  become  a 
naturalised  subject  of  your  kingdom,  and  I  *m  a  High 
Tory,  you  know,  and  believe  in  Divine  Right.  If  you 
meet  presumptuous  claimants,  call  me  in  to  help." 

u  You  are  more  royalist  than  the  king,"  said  Jasper. 

u  All  good  subjects  are,"  she  replied,  her  head  moving 
in  the  little  stately  nod  with  which  she  generally  clinched 
an  argument. 

That  was  her  view  of  the  matter.  She  regarded 
Jasper's  disclaimer  of  eternal  stability  as  an  expression 
of  his  modesty  ;  of  a  philosophic  outlook  on  the  muta- 
bility of  things  mundane  ;  perhaps  of  mere  weariness 
beneath  the  weight  of  stupendous  responsibilities.  Her 
faith  in  him,  so  far  from  remaining  unshaken,  was 
strengthened  by  her  avowal  of  loyalty.  But  Jasper 
went  back  to  his  cottage  with  the  lie  burning  into  his 

304 


The  Usurper 

flesh.  He  considered  grimly,  as  was  his  way,  the  possi- 
bility of  confession.  He  was  not  Jasper  Vellacot.  He 
was  not  her  cousin.  He  was  not  the  real  king.  His 
vast  wealth  belonged  to  a  man  even  now  living  beneath 
his  roof.  He  was  but  a  nameless  adventurer.  Suppose 
he  told  her  this,  what  would  happen  ?  He  found  a  dull 
blank  for  answer.  If  she  loved  him,  he  could  put  her  to 
the  cruel  test.  It  would  be  his  duty  to  come  before  her 
in  all  nakedness  of  soul,  so  that  she  should  see  him  as 
he  was.  But  the  sacred  obligations  of  love  did  not  exist 
in  friendship.  Nothing  would  be  gained.  All  that  was 
precious  to  him  in  life  would  be  lost.  She,  too,  would 
lose  his  help,  which  he  saw  was  of  value.  For  her  sake 
as  well  as  his  own  he  must  play  out  the  sorry  game. 

Yet  now  that  Bunny  was  dead  and  Alicia  came  into 
more  direct  relations  with  him,  making  claims  upon  his 
friendship  for  the  fulfilling  of  her  deeper  needs,  the  lie 
which  at  times  he  had  half  forgotten  grew  to  be  ever 
present.  It  was  as  if  a  hair-shirt  which  he  had  hitherto 
worn  hair  outward  was  now  turned  hair  inward.  And 
inevitably  this  torment  was  accompanied  by  a  recrudes- 
cence of  the  pain  of  his  hopeless  love  which  all  the  gritting 
of  teeth  could  not  suppress.  The  man  suffered  greatly. 

"  I  've  about  come  to  the  end  of  it,  Tom,"  he  said  a 
day  or  two  afterward,  when  the  little  man  had  run  down 
for  a  few  hours  on  business,  and  had  found  him  in  an 
unusual  state  of  depression. 

"  My  dear  man,  death  is  death  —  the  human  lot.     You 
must  n't  take  it  so  to  heart,"  said  Cudby,  for  once  in  his 
life  misreading  his  chief's  mood. 
20  305 


The  Usurper 

"You  silly  fellow,"  said  Jasper.  "It  isn't  that.  I 
don't  grieve  enough  for  the  poor  boy,  though  God  knows 
I  loved  him  dearly.  I  Ve  come  to  the  miserable  conclu- 
sion that  it  was  for  the  best.  The  gods  did  love  him 
after  all,  and  took  him  and  spared  him  a  life  of  unhappi- 
ness.  Either  way  he  would  have  been  unhappy,  Tom 
—  whichever  of  the  two  he  had  married.  His  genius 
would  have  been  cramped  —  you  know  what  I  mean. 
He  had  given  the  world  the  best  that  was  in  him.  Both 
we  and  he  have  been  spared  the  tragedy  of  the  second- 
rate,  which  would  have  happened  had  he  lived  in  the 
conditions  that  seemed  inevitable  —  married  life  here  or 
with  Vittoria.  My  God,  Tom,  how  we  do  manage  to 
tie  our  lives  up  in  knots  !  And  when  we  do,  the  best 
thing  that  can  happen  is  for  —  for  —  " 

u  '  The  fury  with  the  abhorred  shears,'  "  quoted  Cudby. 

"  Yes  —  for  the  Fates  to  do  the  Gordian  business. 
I  Ve  tied  mine  up  in  a  devil  of  a  knot." 

"  Oh,"  said  the  little  man,  turning  his  cropped  grizzled 
head  on  one  side.  "  That 's  what  is  troubling  you,  eh  ? 
You  must  n't  let  it.  I  thought  you  were  getting  over  it 
all.  What 's  the  use  of  worrying  ?  " 

"  None,  I  suppose,"  answered  Jasper,  clasping  his 
hands  behind  his  head  and  stretching  out  his  long  legs. 
"  But  worries  come,  Tom.  Sometimes  they  seem  a  bit 
too  tormenting.  I  Ve  been  awake  the  best  part  of  three 
nights,  and,  as  I  said,  I  Ve  about  come  to  the  end  of  it. 
Did  you  ever  love  a  woman,  Tom  ? " 

Cudby  puffed  three  or  four  smoke-rings  from  his 
cigarette  and  watching  them  said,  — 

306 


The  Usurper 

"  She  drove  me  to  Shakspeare.  I  owe  her  a  debt  of 
gratitude.  But  I  had  a  damned  bad  time." 

A  short  silence  gave  emphasis  to  this  revelation.  Jasper 
pulled  at  his  pipe.  Then  finding  it  was  choked  and 
would  not  draw,  he  laid  it  impatiently  on  the  gaudy  red 
cover  of  his  square  dining-table,  and  rising,  paced  about 
the  cottage  sitting-room. 

"  It 's  getting  on  my  nerves,  Tom.  The  eternal  lie. 
I  'm  obtaining  the  heaven  of  that  woman's  soul  under 
damnable  pretences.  I  'm  a  contemptible  impostor.  She 
thinks  I  'm  her  cousin,  her  equal  in  birth,  an  honest  — 
an  honourable  man.  She  has  a  woman's  silly  faith  in 
me.  If  I  told  her  to  go  into  a  convent  to  pray  for 
Bonamy  Tredgold's  soul,  she  would  do  it  without 
question.  If  I  asked  her  to  marry  me,  she  would  do  so. 
By  God  !  she  would.  She  does  n't  love  me  —  but  I  could 
make  her.  I  know  I  could  make  her.  She  is  only  un- 
awakened.  Bunny  could  n't  have  done  it  —  for  the  boy's 
love  was  elsewhere.  But  I  love  her  with  every  drop  of 
blood  in  my  veins  and  I  could  make  her  love  me.  She 
has  given  me  the  heaven  of  her  soul,  I  tell  you  —  and 
I  've  got  it  by  fraud,  like  everything  else  I  Ve  got.  It 's 
sending  me  off  my  head.  My  God,  Tom,  look  at  this 
wealth  pouring  in  daily  from  all  over  the  world  —  all 
fraud.  You  know  what  a  curse  it  has  been  to  me." 

u  I  know  that  you  have  given  it  away  as  fast  as  you 
have  made  it  and  that  the  world  is  a  happier  and  a  brighter 
place." 

"That's  just  where  the  ironical  hell  of  the  thing 
comes  in,"  cried  Jasper,  with  a  passionate  down  stroke 

307 


The  Usurper 

of  his  arm,  u  I  can  give  away  the  money.  I  can  take  it 
up  in  handfuls  and  throw  it  to  the  poor.  I  won't  have 
it  for  myself.  I  can  rid  myself  of  it.  I  can  clear  the 
damned  weight  of  it  from  my  conscience.  But  this  — 
this  pure  and  sacred  woman's  soul  that  I  have  got  —  by 
the  same  accursed  fraud  —  I  can't  get  rid  of.  I  can't 
throw  it  into  the  world  and  salve  my  conscience  by  say- 
ing that  I  'm  easing  the  lives  of  my  fellow  creatures  with 
it.  It's  inalienable.  And  I  can't  throw  it  back  upon 
her.  She  needs  my  friendship  as  much  as  woman  ever 
needed  friendship  in  the  world.  She  said,  God  forgive 
me,  that  I  was  a  lighthouse-tower  in  her  shipwreck.  I 
must  accept  it.  And  I  must  look  into  her  pure  eyes  and 
keep  the  knavish,  contemptible,  skulking  lie  out  of  my 
own.  It's  very  hell,  Tom." 

He  turned  to  the  little  window  and  looked  out  over 
the  row  of  potted  geraniums  on  the  ledge  outside. 
Cudby  wrinkled  up  his  face  in  anxious  solicitude,  till  it 
looked  like  a  very  old  vulture's  and  further  contorted  it 
by  screwing  in  the  gold-rimmed  eyeglass. 

"  My  dear  old  chap,"  said  he,  lighting  a  fresh  cigarette 
from  the  stump  of  the  old  one,  and  watching  Jasper's 
profile  closely  so  as  to  gauge  the  effect  of  his  words, 
"  I  hope  you  are  not  contemplating  the  insanity  of  giving 
yourself  away.  The  morbid  impulse  to  confess  is  a  feat- 
ure in  the  psychology  of  the  neurotic  criminal  classes. 
That  way  madness  lies,  Jasper." 

"  If  she  loved  me,"  cried  Jasper,  wheeling  round, 
UI  'd  go  to  her  this  instant  with  the  whole  story." 

"  But  she  does  n't." 

308 


The  Usurper 

«  No.     She  does  n't." 

u  Well,"  said  Cudby,  "  ponder  over  what  I  have  told 
you." 

u  I  suppose  you  're  right,  Tom,"  said  Jasper,  wearily. 
u  You  're  the  Mr.  Worldly  Wiseman  of  Bunyan  with  a 
redeeming  bit  of  Faithful  and  Hopeful  thrown  in.  Yes. 
I  '11  have  to  go  through  this  as  I  've  gone  through  the  rest. 
I  hope  God  '11  forgive  me." 

"  C'est  son  metier"  murmured  Cudby  below  his  breath, 
with  a  reminiscent  smile. 

"  I  've  done  what  I  could  in  extenuation,"  said  Jasper. 

"  *  Five  hundred  poor  I  have  in  yearly  pay, 

Who  twice  a  day  their  withered  hands  hold  up 
Toward  heaven,  to  pardon  blood  ;  and  I  have  built 
Two  chantries  where  the  sad  and  solemn  priests 
Sing  still  for  Richard's  soul.'  * 

So  Cudby  quoted.  "  Other  fellows,  kings  and  em- 
perors have  been  there  before,  old  chap,"  he  added 
affectionately.  "  Some  of  them  the  salt  of  the  earth  — 
like  you." 

Jasper  shrugged  his  shoulders.  He  had  grown  moody 
after  his  outburst.  For  a  few  moments  he  busied  him- 
self with  the  cleaning  of  his  foul  pipe.  When  blowing 
down  the  stem  had  achieved  a  satisfactory  result,  he 
placed  the  pipe  tenderly  on  the  mantelpiece.  The  re- 
spectable widow-woman,  his  landlady,  came  in  to  prepare 
the  table  for  tea.  She  laid  a  coarse,  clean  table-cloth 
over  the  red  cover,  set  plates  and  a  huge  loaf  and  jam 
and  butter  and  water-cress,  and  great  breakfast-cups, 
and  a  tray  bearing  cream  and  sugar,  and  a  huge  Britan- 

3°9 


The  Usurper 

nia-metal  teapot  full  of  strong  black  tea.  The  two  men 
drew  chairs  to  the  table.  Cudby  looked  quizzically  at 
his  chief. 

"  Is  there  another  millionaire  in  Christendom  who  sits 
down  to  such  a  meal  ?  " 

u  It 's  a  deuced  sight  better  than  tea-party  tea,"  said 
Jasper,  pouring  out  the  syrupy  liquid.  u  This  is  tea. 
Trust  an  old  colonial.  Remember  the  old  days  —  the  tin 
pannikins,  Tom?  On  that  infernal  farm  that  wouldn't 
grow  anything  ?  My  God  !  And  yet,  sometimes  I  re- 
gret them." 

"  I  don't,"  said  Cudby,  filling  his  cup  with  hot  water 
out  of  an  earthenware  jug  with  a  broken  spout.  "  I  was 
born  for  civilisation.  In  externals  I  should  have  made 
the  better  millionaire  of  the  two.  What  does  Lady 
Alicia  say  to  this  ?  " 

u  Oh,  she  thinks  I  'm  harmless,"  replied  Jasper,  with 
his  wistful  smile. 

u  Well,  so  long  as  syrup  of  tannin  does  you  good,  I 
suppose  it 's  all  right,"  said  the  little  man,  delighted  to 
see  his  chief  sipping  his  tea  with  primitive  enjoyment. 
If  poppy  or  mandragora  could  have  medicined  Jasper  into 
temporary  forgetfulness  of  his  tormented  conscience,  he 
would  have  administered  them  in  gallons.  He  drew  the 
talk  into  impersonal  channels,  managed  to  interest  Jasper 
in  the  account  of  a  glacier  which  he  had  come  across  in 
his  Swiss  holiday,  and  then  sprang  upon  him  the  news 
with  which  he  had  been  bursting  since  his  arrival. 

"  The  dissolution  is  definitely  decided  upon.  There 
will  be  a  general  election  in  the  autumn." 

310 


The  Usurper 

"What?"  cried  Jasper,  dropping  his  knife. 

"  A  general  election.  You  know  what  that  is.  A 
day  will  come  in  the  near  future  when  you  '11  no  longer  be 
Jasper  Vellacot,  M.  P.  —  when  you  '11  have  to  seek  the 
suffrages  of  the  independent  electors  of  North  Ham." 

u  How  do  you  know  ?  " 

The  little  man  hugged  himself  to  see  Jasper's  keen- 
ness. This  was  just  the  thing  he  needed. 

"  I  met  Sparling  in  town  this  morning.  He  had  been 
hoicked  out  of  the  Tyrol  by  a  telegram  from  Headquar- 
ters. Was  to  be  on  the  spot  at  once.  Of  course  the 
public  don't  know.  The  newspapers  are  still  speculating 
academically." 

"  I  looked  upon  the  newspaper  talk  as  idiotic,"  said 
Jasper. 

"  It  is  n't.  A  bombshell  will  soon  burst  over  the 
country.  Only  the  inner  ring  know.  That 's  really 
why  I  came  down  to  see  you.  The  papers  I  brought 
might  have  been  sent  by  post." 

"  Why  on  earth  did  n't  you  tell  me  at  once  ?  "  said 
Jasper. 

"  This  is  devilish  good  tea,  after  all,"  said  the  little 
man. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

JASPER  called  at  Greybrooke  in  the  morning.  Alicia 
J  received  him  in  her  own  private  room,  into  which 
the  scents  of  the  garden  stole  through  the  open  window. 
He  noticed  that  the  framed  photograph  of  Bunny  had 
disappeared  from  the  mantelpiece  and  the  vellum-bound 
copies  of  the  poems  from  the  Sheraton  table.  Uncon- 
sciously, after  he  had  shaken  hands,  he  glanced  around 
to  discover  the  whereabouts  of  the  familiar  objects.  She 
interpreted  his  glance  instinctively. 

"  I  have  given  them  away,"  she  said,  with  a  motion 
of  her  head  toward  their  old  resting-places.  "  They 
were  all  that  I  was  allowed  to  give.  You  won't  think 
that  I  did  n't  value  them." 

u  I  know,"  he  said.  "  It  is  your  way  to  give  roy- 
ally." 

"  And  yours  to  judge  royally,  my  good  Jasper,"  she 
replied,  with  a  little  air  of  pathetic  deprecation.  u  Sit 
down  and  tell  me  the  news." 

"  How  do  you  know  that  I  have  any  ?  " 

She  smiled.     "  I  see  it  in  your  face." 

"Am  I  so  transparent  ?  "  he  asked.  "Well,  there  is 
news.  The  dissolution  has  been  decided  upon.  Cudby 
had  it  confidentially  from  Sparling.  A  general  election 
in  the  autumn." 

312 


The  Usurper 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  sorry,"  cried  Alicia. 

«  Why  ?  " 

"  The  strain  upon  you  —  your  shoulders  bear  enough 
as  it  is.  And  you  have  had  so  disastrous  a  holiday. 
You  are  not  made  of  iron,  Jasper." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  am,  pretty  nearly,"  he  returned,  with  a 
short  laugh.  "  I  shall  pull  through  all  right.  The  ex- 
citement will  do  me  good.  But  I  must  bring  my  stay 
here  to  an  abrupt  conclusion,  I  Jm  afraid.  The  election 
will  be  a  hard  fight — and  I  have  to  go  and  set  my  house 
in  order  before  we  begin.  So  in  a  day  or  two  I  must 
say  good-bye." 

"  I  shall  miss  you,"  she  said,  looking  at  him  frankly. 

"And  I  you.  But  you  yourself  will  be  coming  to 
town  soon." 

She  reflected  for  a  moment.  u  Yes ;  I  suppose  so. 
When  you  are  gone,  this  house  will  seem  peopled  with 
ghosts,  and  they  are  morbid  companions.  I  '11  go  to 
Illingham  for  a  fortnight  or  so  —  then  London." 

"  You  will  help  me  with  the  election  ?  I  shall  need 
every  hand  that  can  work  —  yours  above  all." 

"  But  I  should  be  of  no  use." 

u  Where  could  I  find  an  abler  canvasser  ?  Stay  — 
it  is  n't  because  I  refused  your  services  when  you  offered 
them  at  the  last  election  ?  " 

"  A  month  ago  I  should  have  offered  them  again  — 
Ah  !  don't  look  so  puzzled,  Jasper.  The  desire  is  a 
hundred  times  stronger,  but  somehow  I  feel  less  con- 
fident about  things.  It  strikes  me  that  I  can't  do  much." 

Jasper  did  not  argue  against  this  proper  humility. 
3*3 


The  Usurper 

He  knew  what  she  had  passed  through.  Intuitively 
he  struck  the  right  note.  He  bent  his  brows  upon  her, 
and  kindliness  strove  with  mock  severity  in  his  eyes. 

"  You  can  obey  orders,  can't  you  ?  " 

She  smiled,  looked  up  at  him  fleetingly,  with  some 
shyness. 

"  Yes,"  she  said. 

"  Well,  you  will  receive  instructions.  A  list  of 
houses  shall  be  given  you.  You  will  call  at  these  one 
after  the  other  and  you  will  flatter  the  men  and  kiss  the 
children  no  matter  how  many  inches  deep  they  are  in 
mud-pie  and  treacle,  and  so  win  the  mother's  heart ; 
and  you  will  not  leave  a  house  till  you've  convinced 
everybody  from  the  grandfather  to  the  baby  that  the 
Golden  Age  will  come  again  if  they  elect  me  and  the 
Deluge  if  they  don't.  You  see  it  is  very  simple." 

"  You  are  too  good  to  me,  Jasper,"  she  said,  holding 
out  both  hands  to  him.  He  took  them  in  his. 

"  Then  I  can  count  upon  you  ? " 

"On  my  obedience  —  yes,"  she  said  submissively. 

Jasper  gripped  her  hands  and  turned  sharply  away  ; 
then  plunged  back  into  serious  discussion  of  the  election. 

"  I  may  lose  my  seat.  The  other  side  have  been 
working  for  months  against  me.  I  wonder  who  they  'll 
put  up.  Not  Blayden  again.  He  's  too  weak.  Most 
likely  Jepson,  who  is  in  bad  odour  at  Middleton  and 
would  n't  get  in  there  in  these  patriotic  days.  He  has 
spoken  once  or  twice  at  the  Radical  Club  in  North 
Ham.  He  's  a  strong  man,  you  know.  I  have  an  idea 
it  will  be  the  toughest  fight  in  England. " 

3*4 


The  Usurper 

"  You  will  win,  Jasper.     You  always  do." 

u  Luck  is  capricious.     It  may  desert  me." 

"  It  is  n't  luck,"  she  maintained.  "  You  do  yourself 
injustice.  It  is  your  own  qualities  as  a  conqueror. 
You  are  ordained  to  great  things.  You  must  win." 

"  I  '11  try,"  he  said  grimly. 

"Perhaps,  after  all,  it  will  do  us  good  —  this  elec- 
tion," she  remarked  with  a  little  sigh. 

u  I  Jm  sure  of  it,"  said  Jasper. 

When  he  had  gone,  Alicia  returned  to  the  letter 
which  she  had  been  writing.  But  the  flow  of  episto- 
lary inspiration  had  been  checked.  Her  mind  was  full 
of  the  approaching  contest.  It  loomed  with  sudden  all- 
importance  before  her.  The  retention  of  his  seat  in 
Parliament  was  vital  to  his  schemes.  He  must  win. 
The  image  of  a  defeated  Jasper  presented  itself  for 
dismayed  contemplation.  For  a  vivid  moment  she 
realised  how  tremendous  would  be  his  disappointment, 
and  for  the  first  time  in  their  acquaintanceship  she  ar- 
rived at  a  serious  appreciation  of  the  grave  import  of 
his  work.  Her  own  petty  interests  and  industries  faded 
from  her  mind  as  things  of  no  concern.  She  tore  the 
letter  she  had  been  writing  into  little  pieces  and  let  them 
fall  absently  from  her  finger-tips  into  a  small  heap  on 
her  desk,  and  sat  for  a  long  time  with  knitted  brows, 
thinking  very  deeply. 

Jasper  returned  to  town  with  the  lust  of  battle  within 
him.  He  was  aware  of  his  waning  popularity  at  North 
Ham.  Personally  it  was  due  to  the  machinations  of  the 

3*5 


The  Usurper 

ineffable  Wickens,  whose  influence  was  great;  politically, 
to  the  nature  of  things.  The  borough  was  essentially 
radical.  Sir  Samuel  Dykes,  his  predecessor,  had  only 
got  in  by  a  narrow  majority  on  the  crest  of  a  unionist 
wave,  and  Jasper  had  triumphed  before  mainly  on  the 
strength  of  his  philanthropies  and  his  popular  pro- 
gramme. Now  that  the  war  had  prevented  the  redemp- 
tion of  pledges  and  had  heaped  millions  of  public  debt 
upon  the  taxpayer,  the  faith  of  the  constituency  in  a 
Tory  government  was  shaken,  and  it  had  returned  to 
its  old  gods.  If  he  could  win,  it  would  be  a  victory 
indeed.  And  Jasper  was  in  that  exalted  frame  of  mind 
when  a  man  means  to  win. 

First,  as  he  said,  he  had  to  put  his  house  in  order. 
His  month's  holiday  had  caused  arrears  of  work  to  accu- 
mulate with  which  Cudby's  smaller  capacity  and  his  lack 
of  authority  had  prevented  him  from  grappling.  Jasper 
had  the  napoleonic  grasp.  As  it  was,  Cudby  had  made  a 
mistake  costing  his  chief  some  thousands,  and  Jasper  had 
to  set  his  wits  to  work  to  recover  them.  In  spite  of  the 
curse  of  the  golden  touch,  he  chafed  at  losing.  He  was 
not  without  the  vanity  of  the  conqueror.  And  it  was  as 
a  conqueror  that  he  resumed  the  direction  of  his  multi- 
tudinous affairs.  Coming  back  to  it  all  from  the  quie- 
tudes of  human  love  and  suffering,  he  felt  with  a  new 
and  fierce  joy  the  throbbing  of  the  vast  machine  which 
he  controlled.  He  held  the  levers  of  a  thousand  in- 
terests in  all  quarters  of  the  globe,  and  their  pulsations 
vibrated  at  his  finger-tips.  It  gave  him  a  sense  of  un- 
crushable  power.  Reaction  from  the  bitter  humiliation 


The  Usurper 

of  soul  through  which  he  had  passed  in  the  latter  days 
of  his  intercourse  with  Alicia  drove  him  upwards  to 
unwonted  altitudes  of  pride.  He  viewed  his  kingdom 
with  a  passionate  craving  to  govern,  to  direct,  to  see  the 
result  executed  on  the  flash  of  the  command.  He 
exulted  at  the  thought  that  all  was  his  own  creation, 
that  his  brain  alone  devised,  his  will  alone  compelled. 
From  the  management  of  his  tin-mine  in  Australia  to 
the  pensioning  of  a  broken-down  hurdy-gurdy  man,  his 
was  the  sole  hand  that  guided.  In  this  fever  he  began 
to  long  for  vaster  enterprises  than  any  he  had  under- 
taken. Had  his  wealth  been  greater  by  a  few  millions 
he  would  have  bought  London,  and  turned  it  into  a  para- 
dise for  the  poor. 

Into  these  days  of  waiting  till  the  battle  should  begin 
he  crowded  weeks  of  strenuous  labour.  In  the  few 
moments  of  leisure  he  allowed  himself  he  would  take 
Cudby  by  the  arm  and  walk  him  round  the  deserted 
Bloomsbury  Squares,  talking  of  his  projects  for  the  future. 
These  were  many ;  some  feasible,  others  sheerly  fan- 
tastic. He  knew  of  a  desolate  tract  of  country  east  of 
the  Yukon  where  gold  could  be  found  in  trainloads. 
He  would  acquire  rights,  have  it  worked,  and  devote  the 
proceeds  to  a  vast  Assurance  Company  for  the  working 
classes,  which  would  solve  forever  the  question  of  Old 
Age  Pensions.  Only  those  who  paid  no  income  tax  would 
be  allowed  to  insure  in  it.  He  would  open  co-operative 
kitchens  in  all  the  great  cities  of  the  kingdom.  He 
would  do  wonderful  things;  among  them  he  would  win 
this  election.  There  had  been  rumours  last  session  of 


The  Usurper 

changes  in  the  ministry  if  the  government  were  returned 
again.  Why  should  he  not  be  offered  a  position  ?  Hints 
had  reached  him.  Once  there,  the  next  step  would  be 
into  the  cabinet.  And  then  in  years  to  come,  why 
should  he  not  rule  the  Empire  ? 

u  Beware  of  megalomania,  my  dear  friend,"  said 
Cudby,  one  day  as  they  were  returning  after  one  of 
these  inspiring  rambles. 

"  What 's  that  ? "  asked  Jasper,  who  now  and  then 
betrayed  curious  little  ignorances. 

They  were  on  the  doorstep  of  the  house.  Cudby 
paused,  latch-key  in  hand. 

"  The  ultimate  evolution  of  swelled-head,"  he  an- 
swered chasteningly. 

But  the  appearance  at  the  suddenly  opening  door  of 
the  man  Burke,  pallid  and  ironical,  coming,  as  he  so  often 
did,  like  the  shadow  of  a  Fate  across  Jasper's  path,  fur- 
nished Jasper  with  a  reply.  He  had  a  sure  guarantee 
of  sanity.  But  he  laughed  at  the  shadow.  Burke  had 
grown  decent,  almost  respectful.  Jasper  had  been 
watching  him.  The  man  was  quite  content.  Indeed, 
why  should  he  not  be  ?  He  would  reward  the  poor 
fellow  for  well  doing  by  giving  him  a  more  responsible 
position.  An  interest  in  life  was  everything  to  a  man. 
There  would  be  plenty  of  exciting  work  that  he  could 
do  at  North  Ham. 

"  I  'm  deuced  sorry  he  has  turned  sober,"  said  Cudby. 
UI  had  hopes  once  that  he  would  drink  himself  to  death. 
Oh,  don't  look  shocked,  my  good  Jasper.  I  don't  set 
up  for  a  benevolent  altruist.  If  I  had  been  king  I  should 


The  Usurper 

have  beheaded  him  for  reasons  of  State.  Also  because 
I  don't  like  the  shape  of  his  nose  or  his  mouth  or  any- 
thing about  him.  As  it  is,  don't  encourage  him  to  have 
interests  in  either  life  or  elections.  Make  him  a  birth- 
day present  of  a  dozen  cases  of  champagne  —  or  a  box 
of  dynamite  cigars." 

"  Don't  talk  like  a  devil,  Tom,"  said  Jasper,  with  one 
of  his  stern  looks.  "It  doesn't  become  you." 

Cudby  shrugged  his  shoulders.  You  might  as  well 
"  use  question  with  the  wolf"  as  with  Jasper  when  he 
adopted  that  tone.  Indeed,  like  the  average  wolf,  the 
more  he  was  questioned  the  more  were  his  contrary 
instincts  stimulated. 

So  Jasper  scheming  out  all  things  restlessly,  with  his 
napoleonic  grasp  of  detail,  apportioned  Burke  his  post 
in  the  approaching  campaign.  Burke's  dull  eyes  were 
lit  with  a  gleam  of  satisfaction  when  Jasper  announced 
his  intentions  and  instructed  him  in  the  duties  which  it 
was  proposed  that  he  should  fulfil.  He  professed  grati- 
tude ;  so  genuinely  that  Jasper  was  touched.  The  man 
had  something  in  the  nature  of  a  heart,  after  all.  If  only 
he  could  be  trusted,  like  Tom  Cudby,  to  keep  from 
drink  and  interest  himself  in  the  working  of  the  king- 
dom, to  what  heights  might  he  not  rise  ?  Somehow 
Jasper  could  not  help  bringing  him  into  the  sphere  of 
his/0//V  des  grandeurs.  Strangely  enough,  in  his  present 
condition,  he  had  lost  remorse  for  wrong  done  to  the 
man.  He  only  regarded  the  woman. 

Yet,  though  he  forgot  the  torment  in  this  new  intoxi- 
cation of  power,  the  lie  did  not  cease  to  burn  red-hot  at 


The  Usurper 

the  back  of  his  soul.  And  though  he  passionately  re- 
pudiated the  possibility  of  defeat  at  this  election,  it 
haunted  him  none  the  less.  It  was  symptomatic  of  his 
fever  that  he  should  somewhat  exaggerate  the  import- 
ance of  victory.  In  soberer  intervals  he  had  irrational 
and  morbid  presentiments  that  North  Ham  might  be 
his  Moscow.  The  thought  was  unendurable  fear.  He 
would  win.  He  must  win.  His  prestige  as  conqueror 
required  it.  He  lost  sense  of  proportion. 

The  official  announcement  of  the  dissolution  of  Par- 
liament and  the  beginning  of  the  electoral  campaign 
drove  the  intoxication  from  Jasper's  brain.  The  work 
in  front  of  him  was  too  severely  practical  for  excited 
imaginings  beyond  its  scope.  Fundamentally,  he  was 
one  of  the  sanest  of  living  men.  For  a  short  period, 
under  stress  of  psychological  circumstances,  the  two  en- 
tities in  him,  the  visionary  and  the  man  of  action,  had 
commingled  and  melted  together  in  a  strange  passion. 
Now  the  madness  was  over.  He  saw  clearly.  But  the 
imperious  necessity  of  victory  was  even  more  vivid 
before  his  eyes.  The  visionary  replaced  Moscow  by 
Waterloo.  The  man  of  action  plunged  into  the  tur- 
moil with  every  energy  of  brain  and  body. 

As  he  had  anticipated,  Jepson,  abandoning  hopes  of 
success  in  his  late  constituency  where  patriotic  fervour 
consumed  a  respectable  multitude,  accepted  the  invita- 
tion of  the  Radical  Committee  of  North  Ham.  His 
candidature  was  vociferously  welcomed.  The  battle 
began  in  earnest.  Wickens's  red  face  and  light  suit  and 
yellow  chrysanthemum  in  his  buttonhole  pervaded  the 

320 


The  Usurper 

streets.  He  made  no  secret  of  his  hatred  of  Jasper,  and 
spread  abroad  abominable  lies.  For  one  that  reached 
his  ears,  Jepson,  who  was  a  high-minded  man,  apolo- 
gised to  Jasper,  and  published  his  apology. 

These  were  days  of  ceaseless  activity,  intense  strain, 
when  Jasper  slept  dreamlessly  like  an  exhausted  animal 
and  ate  he  scarce  knew  when.  His  courage  lit  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  more  timorous  of  his  supporters  who 
at  first  had  despaired  of  success.  He  worked  indefati- 
gably  among  them,  would  not  hear  of  defeat.  Impe- 
rialism and  Popular  Reform  —  on  that  platform  they 
could  conquer  any  constituency.  At  his  headquarters 
he  was  accessible  to  every  one,  answering  questions, 
setting  doubts  at  rest,  speaking  out  of  accurate  know- 
ledge, with  the  air  of  a  vast  reserve  of  strength  behind 
him.  He  spoke  in  halls,  in  the  open  air.  Convinced 
of  the  righteousness  of  his  cause,  he  scattered  abroad  a 
rough  oratory  that  had  the  magic  of  genius.  The  hopes 
of  his  party  began  to  run  high.  In  the  streets  his  tall, 
stooping  figure  in  its  awkwardly  fitting  clothes  had 
long  been  familiar.  Now  it  was  as  ubiquitous  as  that 
of  Wickens.  His  instinct  of  organisation  led  him  to 
every  weak  spot.  He  was  always  on  foot,  in  all 
weathers.  One  drizzling,  grimy  day,  he  halted,  with 
dripping  umbrella,  his  boots  and  trouser-hems  caked 
with  mud,  his  back  splashed,  before  a  poster  of  the 
enemy  : 

"  Liberal  voters,  do  not  bow  your  knees  to  the 
Plutocracy." 

A  little  knot  of  passers-by  in  the  busy  street  paused  out 
21  321 


The  Usurper 

of  curiosity.  He  turned  round  upon  them  and  met  their 
eyes  with  a  humorous  smile.  The  incongruity  between 
the  bloated-looking  word  and  the  bedraggled  person  it 
referred  to  could  not  fail  to  arouse  a  sense  of  the  comic. 
The  spectators  broke  into  laughter.  Jasper  nodded 
pleasantly  and  passed  on,  delighted  at  having  thus  acci- 
dentally discounted  the  poster's  effectiveness. 

Lady  Alicia  came  down  daily  and  joined  the  band 
of  workers,  showing  herself  as  indefatigable  as  Jasper. 
She  too  was  in  a  fever,  —  of  self-doubt,  of  desire  to  con- 
vince, of  gnawing  anxiety.  The  work  of  the  world, 
which  when  played  at  had  seemed  such  a  gracefully  easy 
occupation,  faced  her  now  as  something  grim,  iron,  to 
be  carried  through  with  aching  muscles  and  throbbing 
brain.  Her  canvassing  for  Jasper  was  work  deadly 
serious.  She  too  lost  sense  of  proportion ;  but  then  she 
was  obeying  a  law  of  a  non-humorous  sex. 

Jasper  met  her  in  the  street  one  day.  They  had  few 
chances  of  private  talk  during  the  turmoil.  He  asked 
her  for  her  news.  She  handed  him  her  note-book  with 
an  air  of  timid  apology. 

"  I  'm  afraid  I  have  n't  done  much." 
"  What  do  the  ticks  mean  ?   '  Sound  '  ?  " 
"  Yes,    and    the    crosses    are    '  doubtful '  —  and    the 
naughts   '  irreconcilable.' ' 

"  But  there  's  a  tick  against  Wheeler,  the  greengrocer 
in  Smith  Street !  " 

"  Why,  yes,"  she  replied.     "  He  was  easy." 
"  But  he  's  one  of  the  most  pig-headed  radicals  in  the 
constituency  !  "     cried  Jasper,  in    great    delight.      "  If 

322 


The  Usurper 

you  've  got  him,  you  've  got  a  hundred  votes.  How  do 
you  manage  it  ?  " 

She  coloured  with  pleasure  at  his  praise  and  looked  at 
him,  faltering  on  the  brink  of  tears. 

"  They  all  seem  to  know  so  much  more  about  it 
than  I  do,"  she  said.  "So  I  let  them  talk." 

"That's  just  it!"  he  cried  gleefully.  "First  let 
them  empty  out  the  stale  stuff  they  call  their  opinions 
and  then  pour  the  sweet  sense  in."  He  scanned  the 
note-book.  u  You  're  doing  wonders.  If  they  all  are 
as  successful  as  you,  it 's  simply  a  walk  over." 

"  I  hope  things  are  going  well,"  she  remarked  with  a 
shade  of  anxiety. 

He  pounded  the  pavement  with  his  umbrella  — 
"They  must  go  well.  They  've  got  to  !  But  we  '11  see 
more  clearly  after  Friday." 

"  Friday  ? "  she  queried,  forgetful  for  the  moment. 

"You  know.  The  great  field-night  —  our  pitched 
battle.  All  has  been  skirmishing  up  to  now.  Did  I 
tell  you  Lord  John  Revelby  was  coming  down  to  give 
me  a  hand  ?  He 's  a  power  among  the  better  class. 
He  will  address  himself  to  them.  I  shall  go  straight  for 
the  people.  I  have  been  saving  myself  up  for  it.  You 
will  come  ? " 

"I  should  love  to,"  she  said. 

They  parted.  Jasper  went  off  to  keep  an  appoint- 
ment with  Sparling  and  the  organising  Committee  who 
were  busy  with  preparations  for  Friday's  meeting.  They 
dreaded  a  disturbance,  the  populace  of  North  Ham  not 
being  of  the  gentlest.  He  put  heart  into  them.  He 

323 


The  Usurper 

wanted  a  hostile  crowd.      He  had  things  to  say  to  it. 
They  suggested  precautionary  measures. 

"  As  many  as  you  like,"  he  said,  and  sitting  down 
with  them  he  planned  the  battle. 

His  genius  of  perception  of  great  issues  assured  him 
that  he  must  stand  or  fall  by  Friday  night's  engagement. 
It  would  bring  the  waverers  enthusiastically  to  his  feet 
or  leave  them  cold.  He  had  to  fan  a  dying  patriotism 
into  flame — to  open  despairing  eyes  to  visions  of  hope. 
By  the  magic  of  his  will  he  had  to  clear  away  moun- 
tains of  prejudice  —  prejudice  against  his  wealth,  which 
the  other  side  had  skilfully  piled  up  stone  by  stone. 
Already  he  had  done  much.  He  felt  victory  electric  in 
the  air. 

Except  the  love  of  Alicia,  he  had  never  desired  any- 
thing in  his  life  with  such  passionate  fervour.  He  had 
never  striven  for  anything  with  such  vehemence.  Emo- 
tion not  being  based  on  reason,  he  felt  that  victory  over 
the  hostile  forces  arrayed  against  him  would  be  the 
crowning  triumph  of  his  career.  It  would  show  him 
to  be  indomitable.  And  through  the  queer  byways  of 
his  soul,  with  the  lie  still  burning  deep  down,  ran  a 
vague  presage  that  it  would  be  a  sign  of  God's  con- 
secration of  him  at  last  as  rightful  king.  Meanwhile 
his  nerve  was  braced  for  the  struggle  on  Friday. 

On  Thursday  evening  Wickens  met  him  as  he  was 
leaving  his  Committee  Room. 

"  Going  to  win,  Mr.  Vellacot  ? "  asked  the  butcher 
and  ex-Mayor. 

u  I  hope  so,"  said  Jasper,  coldly. 
324 


The  Usurper 

« I  don't." 

"  I  'm  glad  that  we  are  on  different  sides,"  replied 
Jasper,  loathing  the  man  with  his  red  brutal  face  and 
flaring  flower  in  his  coat. 

u  You  need  n't  be  so  damned  glad  as  all  that,"  said 
Wickens,  turning  away. 

"  It's  rough  on  Jepson  that  he  should  have  such  scum 
as  a  right-hand  man,"  Jasper  remarked  to  Sparling,  who 
had  just  joined  him. 

"  It  would  have  been  policy  to  have  conciliated 
Wickens  all  the  same,"  said  Sparling. 

But  Jasper  cried  out  against  the  suggestion.  There 
could  be  no  compromise  with  such  vermin,  the  blood- 
suckers of  the  poor.  They  must  be  taken  by  the  throat 
and  strangled  and  thrown  into  the  ditch  where  they 
belonged.  He  rejoiced  that  the  brute  was  his  enemy. 
He  had  a  lofty  scorn  for  the  man's  power  to  harm.  All 
the  forces  of  good  were  fighting  on  his  side. 

Friday  morning  came.  Jasper  rose  with  a  rare  sense 
of  exhilaration.  As  he  was  starting  for  North  Ham, 
Cudby  put  a  telegram  into  his  hand.  He  tore  it  open, 
read  it,  with  an  inarticulate  exclamation  of  surprise.  It 
was  a  cablegram  in  cipher.  It  came  from  the  mining 
expert  he  had  commissioned  a  year  ago  to  prospect  east 
of  the  Yukon.  He  had  almost  forgotten  him  till,  in  his 
surrexcitation,  he  had  raved  to  Cudby  of  the  famous 
Assurance  Company.  The  message  brought  tidings  of 
a  new  Pactolus.  He  flourished  the  paper  before  Cudby's 
eyes,  his  own  lambent  with  a  strange  excitement. 

"  Megalomania  !  "  he  almost  shouted.  u  Read  this." 
32S 


The  Usurper 

And  Cudby  owned  to  himself  that  the  man  was 
irresistible.  ( 

"  It  is  the  gift  of  God,"  said  Jasper.  "  I  can  no  longer 
despise  it.  I  take  it  as  an  omen." 

He  had  a  moment  of  grandeur.  "  Why  should  I  not 
be  ordained  to  great  things  ?  "  he  added,  remembering 
Alicia's  words. 


326 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

LORD  JOHN  REVELRY  was  speaking.  As  an 
Under  Secretary  of  State  in  the  late  administra- 
tion, with  interesting  explanations  of  policy  to  give,  he 
commanded  polite  attention.  He  was  mildly  sarcastic, 
mildly  humorous,  silky-voiced,  somewhat  scholarly,  yet 
distressingly  practical,  the  type  of  the  professional  poli- 
tician in  easy  circumstances.  The  packed  audience  in 
the  drill  hall  listened  with  respectful  apathy,  waiting  for 
the  revelations  that  never  came.  In  Lady  Alicia's  ears 
his  words  droned  somewhat  unmeaningly.  From  her 
seat  on  the  platform  she  regarded  the  mass  of  human 
faces.  They  stretched  before  her  in  endless  lateral 
rows  until  they  became  blurred  bands  of  pink  in  the 
distance.  They  extended  in  three  tiers,  right  and  left 
along  the  two  sides,  with  here  and  there  a  break  for 
exits,  the  two  lines  going  off  in  perspective  to  the  end, 
where,  above  the  central  door,  ran  a  gallery,  also  filled  tier 
on  tier  with  the  same  pink  indistinguishable  blur.  The 
three  gangways  between  the  lateral  benches  were  blocked 
with  standing  men  and  women,  while  far  off  in  the  dim- 
ness beyond  the  open  doorway  could  be  discerned 
vaguely  the  black  mass  of  the  heads  of  those  who  had 
been  unable  to  gain  an  entrance. 

The  seats    on    the  platform,   arranged    in    horseshoe 
form  around  a  table  in  the  middle,  were  as  crowded  as 

327 


The  Usurper 

those  in  the  body  of  the  hall..  Sparling  was  in  the  chair. 
Lord  John  Revelby  stood  at  his  right.  Jasper  sat  on 
his  left.  Near  by  was  Cudby,  within  easy  reach  of  his 
chief.  Alicia  had  been  assigned  a  chair  in  the  front 
row,  at  the  end  of  the  horseshoe  on  the  stage  right. 
Thus  Jasper  on  the  other  side  of  the  table  had  his  face 
towards  her. 

Though  the  meeting  was  entirely  open  to  all  comers, 
there  had  been  little  disorder.  Under  Jasper's  gen- 
eralship the  organising  Committee  had  stationed  strong 
companies  of  his  supporters  at  various  points  of  vantage. 
The  unanimity  with  which  they  had  broken  into  patriotic 
songs  during  the  hour  of  waiting  had  somewhat  cowed 
an  unorganised  opposition,  which  for  decency's  sake 
had  been  constrained  to  join  in  the  choruses.  The 
entrance  of  Lord  John  Revelby,  Jasper,  and  the  Com- 
mittee, from  the  room  at  the  back  of  the  platform,  had 
been  the  signal  for  enthusiastic  cheering  which  drowned 
a  counterpoint  of  groans.  The  groans,  however,  had 
struck  painfully  on  Alicia's  sensitive  ear.  She  looked 
at  this  audience,  for  the  moment  so  placid,  and  shiv- 
ered at  the  thought  of  its  likeness  to  a  wild  beast 
asleep.  It  was  an  ill-dressed,  sweaty,  rough,  labouring 
audience,  —  its  units,  as  she  had  learned  from  her  can- 
vassing experience,  individuals  appallingly  remote  from 
her  in  their  outlook  on  life,  their  aims,  aspirations,  their 
social  and  moral  code.  For  the  individuals  she  had  felt 
a  remorseful  pity,  a  fervent  desire  to  devote  her  re- 
sources to  the  amelioration  of  their  position.  But  in 
the  mass  they  frightened  her. 

328 


The  Usurper 

At  some  conventional  appeal  to  the  flag  on  the  part 
of  the  speaker,  a  man  in  the  body  of  the  hall  cheered 
and  waved  a  Union- jack  wildly.  A  voice  behind  him 
bade  him  angrily  put  the  blanked  thing  down.  There 
was  beginning  of  uproar.  A  smile  hovering  round  the 
politician's  thin  lips  restored  adequate  silence. 

"With  less  blasphemy,"  said  he,  "and  more  patriot- 
ism, perhaps,  I  might  support  the  gentleman's  request. 
When  we  want  to  tame  raging  bulls  we  don't  flourish 
the  hated  red  ensign  of  Britain's  glory  before  their 
eyes." 

The  audience  laughed  and  cheered  and  hooted;  but 
they  were  pleased,  and  went  on  listening,  though  with 
more  alertness  and  more  spirit  of  question  in  face  and 
attitude.  Alicia  felt  the  change  and  looked  across  at 
Jasper,  who,  meeting  her  glance,  flashed  her  a  sign  of 
encouragement.  His  eyes  were  still  lambent  with  the 
certainty  of  predestined  triumph.  She  smiled  back  to 
him  all  her  hopes. 

Cudby  leaned  forward  and  pulled  Jasper's  sleeve. 
Jasper  bent  his  ear  to  receive  the  whisper. 

"  It 's  a  good  thing  we  had  this  Downing  Street  ma- 
chine to  speak  first.  You  '11  come  in  all  the  stronger 
as  a  man." 

Jasper  nodded  brightly,  surveyed  the  countless  faces, 
and  knew  that  he  had  it  within  him  to  master  them. 
Things  were  going  splendidly.  He  noticed  Wickens, 
who  sat  in  the  third  row  of  the  benches  near  the  central 
gangway,  conspicuous  with  his  red  face,  light  suit,  and 
yellow  buttonhole,  look  round  now  and  then  anxiously, 

329 


The  Usurper 

as  if  unable  to  account  for  the  amiable  disposition  of 
the  audience.  Jasper  derived  much  satisfaction  from 
these  signs  of  discomfiture.  Then  he  forgot  the  man 
in  the  swelling  consciousness  of  greater  issues.  His 
gaze  again  embraced  the  crowd.  In  a  few  moments  he 
would  grapple  with  it,  lift  its  heart  on  high,  set  it  athrob 
with  the  passionate  ideals  of  an  Imperial  Britain,  mis- 
tress of  the  world,  filling  her  marts  with  the  produce  of 
the  five  continents,  her  poor  fed  from  overflowing  grana- 
ries, the  land  stately  from  end  to  end  with  palaces  for 
the  mitigation  of  every  human  ill  and  for  the  cultiva- 
tion of  every  noble  instinct.  The  informing  spirit  of 
the  great  speech  before  him  swam  in  a  brain,  for  all 
its  intoxication,  luminously  clear. 

Lord  John  Revelby  exchanged  a  glance  with  the 
chairman,  swallowed  the  rest  of  his  speech,  came  to 
the  peroration,  and  recommended  Mr.  Jasper  Vellacot 
to  the  continued  suffrages  of  the  electors.  He  sat  down 
amid  some  applause.  Sparling  explained  that  he  had  no 
need  to  introduce  Mr.  Vellacot.  Jasper  sprang  to  his 
feet. 

Deafening  noise  greeted  him  ;  cheers,  howls,  hisses. 
The  aspect  of  the  audience  changed  like  a  dull  grey  sea 
suddenly  lashed  into  storm.  Popular  or  not,  his  person- 
ality had  the  power  of  exciting  passions.  He  stood  facing 
them  in  silence  while  the  tumult  lasted,  a  smile  on  his 
lips.  He  let  them  yell  and  whistle  and  groan  and  wave 
Union-Jacks  and  tear  them  down  and  struggle  in  clamour 
until  Alicia  thought  the  demoniac  uproar  would  never 
end.  Suddenly  he  threw  up  his  hand,  and  as  if  by  witch- 

330 


The  Usurper 

craft  the  sea  calmed.  He  was  thrilled  to  the  heart.  The 
obedience  of  the  mob  had  all  the  startling  swiftness  of  a 
miracle.  Alicia  drew  a  quick  broken  breath. 

Jasper  began  to  speak,  his  words  at  first  coming  with 
the  hesitancy  of  a  flood  that  seeks  its  natural  channel. 
Then  the  torrent  burst  forth.  It  swept  from  his  lips  the 
refined  tones  of  speech  that  he  used  habitually  and  left 
the  natural  rough  Australian  accent,  homely,  broad,  allied 
to  that  of  his  hearers,  in  itself  eloquent  of  his  upbringing 
among  the  people.  He  appealed  to  his  grim,  labouring 
audience  in  their  own  Doric,  from  their  own  standpoint. 
Raised  them  to  unimagined  heights.  Each  point  and 
pause  met  with  cheers  and  fierce  clamour.  The  inner- 
most was  touched,  for  adhesion  or  revolt.  The  hostility 
fanned  eloquence  into  flaming  utterance.  The  action 
and  reaction  between  speaker  and  hearers  grew  electric. 
Jasper  lost  himself.  Nothing  seemed  to  exist  but  a  soul 
pouring  itself  out  in  tumultuous  words.  The  spiritual 
and  mental  exaltation  of  the  past  weeks  culminated  in 
inspired  oratory.  The  Under  Secretary  of  State  stared 
at  him  wide-eyed,  like  a  man  who,  seeing  a  herdsman, 
suddenly  finds  him  transfigured  as  Phoebus  Apollo.  And 
Alicia  stared  at  him  frightened — no  longer  by  the  people, 
but  by  the  man  himself. 

And  as  he  talked  the  dissentient  sounds  became  fewer 
and  fainter ;  until  a  certain  point  when  the  great  audi- 
ence cheered  as  one  man.  He  had  won  the  victory. 
Through  his  veins  ran  sheer  exultation.  Radiant  with 
triumph  and  inspiration,  he  continued.  Again  he  lost 
himself  in  the  thrilling  joy  of  uplifting  hearts  to  high 


Thp  Usurper 

hopes  and  high  endeavours.  Was  vaguely  conscious  of 
a  passionate  personal  appeal  to  be  received  among  them 
as  a  man  among  men,  when  a  word  hurled  at  him  swiftly, 
fiercely,  hit  him  like  a  stone  between  the  brows. 

"You  lie!" 

He  stopped  short,  staggered.  Wickens  was  standing 
a  few  yards  away,  regarding  him  with  hate  in  his  eyes. 
For  a  breath  or  two  the  relevance  of  the  word  puzzled 
him.  Then  he  remembered.  He  had  been  saying  that 
his  wealth  had  not  been  wrung  from  the  poor ;  it  had 
come  unsought ;  had  been  put  into  his  hands  by  God, 
for  His  purposes.  And  Wickens  had  cried,  "  You 
lie!" 

"You  lie!"  cried  Wickens  again.  "You  stole 
it." 

Three  seconds  of  amazed  hush  had  separated  the 
man's  two  utterances.  The  fourth  second  brought  a 
mighty  hubbub  of  shouts  and  hoarse  angry  voices  and 
threatening  yells.  One  of  the  stationed  companies  of 
Jasper's  supporters  tried  to  rush  the  position  which 
Wickens  had  taken  up  among  his  own  men.  But  the 
throng  was  too  great.  There  were  screams  of  crushed 
women.  The  attackers  desisted  from  a  futile  attempt. 
A  man  struggling  towards  the  front  through  the  crowd 
in  the  central  gangway  diverted  attention. 

Jasper  leaped  to  the  front  of  the  platform  and  thun- 
dered for  silence.  His  supporters  obeyed.  Gradually 
order  was  established.  Wickens,  who  did  not  lack  cour- 
age, had  remained  standing. 

"  Now  then,"  said  Jasper.     "Speak  !  " 
332 


The  Usurper 

Sparling  as  chairman  tried  to  interpose.  The  whole 
proceeding  was  out  of  order.  Mr.  Vellacot  must  con- 
tinue his  speech.  Jasper  waved  him  aside. 

"  Let  him  speak." 

u  I  have  got  to  say  that  you  are  not  fit  to  represent 
this  constituency,"  said  Wickens.  "  I  say  that  you  are 
an  impostor.  Your  real  name  is  n't  Jasper  Vellacot  at 
all.  I  say  that  you  stole  your  name  and  your  millions 
from  a  man  whom  you  have  been  keeping  for  the  last 
year  or  two  in  your  house  —  a  man  who  you  thought 
had  lost  his  memory." 

"  This  is  not  the  place  to  answer  such  a  charge,  and 
you  are  not  the  person  I  should  answer,"  said  Jasper, 
steadily. 

"  I  '11  find  the  person  soon  enough,"  exclaimed  Wick- 
ens,  turning  round. 

And  with  the  help  of  two  or  three  of  his  friends  he 
dragged  from  the  crowd  in  the  central  gangway  the  man 
who  had  been  struggling  to  the  front,  and  brought  him 
into  the  row  of  seats  in  full  view  of  the  platform.  Burke 
eyed  Jasper  sullenly,  and  Jasper  looked  at  Burke. 

"  If  that  man  says  I  have  wronged  him,  he  is  the  one 
to  accuse  me,"  said  Jasper. 

The  audience  sat  breathlessly  still,  waiting  for  the 
result  of  this  unexpected  drama. 

Even  as  he  stood  there  before  Burke's  accusing  eyes, 
Jasper  still  felt  a  remaining  thrill  of  mastery.  In  the 
tiny  dim  flashes  of  introspection  that  such  a  crisis  allowed, 
he  was  surprised  to  find  how  little  he  was  agitated,  how 
little  out  of  the  normal  the  incident  appeared  to  be.  He 

333 


The  Usurper 

was  quite  calm,  quite  collected.  His  voice  had  not  an 
uncontrolled  tremor. 

"Your  name  is  Henry  Burke.  I  knew  you  years  ago 
in  Australia,  though  you  had  forgotten  when  I  took  you 
into  my  house  destitute.  I  have  fed  you  and  clothed 
you  and  admitted  you  into  my  confidential  service. 
What  have  you  to  say  ?  " 

Burke  cleared  his  throat  and  spoke,  and  but  for  the 
intensity  of  the  stillness,  his  words,  uttered  as  if  learned 
by  rote,  would  not  have  been  heard.  Wickens  kept  a 
grip  upon  his  arm. 

"  I  am  Jasper  Vellacot.  You  left  me  for  dead  in  the 
bush,  stealing  from  my  pocket  a  pocket-book  containing 
the  title  to  the  land  which  is  now  the  tin-mine.  If  you 
deny  it,  I  can  prove  it  in  a  court  of  law." 

uYou  cannot  prove  it,"  said  Jasper,  quietly. 

u  Can  you  deny  it  ?  "  asked  Burke,  at  a  prompting 
whisper  from  Wickens. 

The  chairman  rose.  u  Surely,  Mr.  Vellacot,  we  must 
end  this  unprecedented  scene,  —  I  cannot  allow  you  to 
reply  further  to  such  preposterous  charges." 

Jasper  looked  around  at  the  set,  amazed  faces  of  the 
audience  ;  at  Cudby,  who  sat  huddled  together  in  blank 
fear ;  at  Alicia.  For  a  long  time,  as  it  seemed  to  them, 
their  eyes  dwelt  on  each  other's.  Then  Jasper  turned 
quietly  to  Sparling. 

"  The  charges  are  not  preposterous  at  all,"  said  he. 

Wickens  again  whispered  into  Burke's  ear.  Burke 
cried  out  in  louder  tones,  — 

"  Your  name  and  every  penny  you  have  belong  to  me." 
334 


The  Usurper 

Impatient  voices  shouted  clamorously :  "  Turn  him 
out !  "  "  Take  him  to  an  Asylum  !  " 

Jasper  faced  the  audience  with  uplifted  hand.  It  was 
the  supreme  moment  of  his  life.  He  had  to  make  an 
irrevocable  choice.  Yet  from  the  instant  of  Burke's 
appearance  by  the  side  of  Wickens  he  had  not  known  a 
quiver  of  hesitation.  Forces  worked  within  him  of 
which  he  was  not  conscious  till  afterwards.  He  had 
an  odd  sense  of  its  being  a  very  simple,  commonplace 
matter. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  this  person's  story  is  true  in 
every  particular,  and  his  claims  are  just.  I  have  nothing 
further  to  say." 

Then  he  walked  quietly  to  his  chair  and  sat  down. 
It  was  indeed  his  hour  of  victory. 

But  Cudby  sprang  to  the  edge  of  the  platform. 

"  At  least  you  will  admit  publicly  that  you  have  no 
proof.  It  was  your  word  against  Mr.  Vellacot's." 

"  Yes,  I  '11  admit  that,"  said  Burke. 

"  You  damned  fool,"  growled  Wickens. 

The  drama  was  over.  A  gasp  of  amazement,  in- 
credulity, wonder,  rose  from  the  audience.  What  had 
happened  had  been  too  remote,  too  impersonal  to  them 
to  create  riot.  They  broke  into  a  surging  roar  of  talk, 
each  questioning  and  discussing  with  his  neighbour. 
Many  began  to  leave  the  hall. 

Jasper  looked  up  at  Sparling,  who  stood  stupefied,  un- 
able to  grapple  with  the  fantastic  unreason  of  the  situation. 

"  Dismiss  the  meeting,"  said  he, "  and  ask  them  to  go 
home  quietly." 

335 


The  Usurper 

Sparling  spoke  the  necessary  words.  The  meeting 
rose,  prepared  to  leave  the  building  as  if  it  were  a  church. 
Suddenly  a  man  raised  a  voice  like  a  trumpet. 

"  Three  cheers  for  Mr.  Vellacot  —  our  Mr.  Vellacot !  " 

And  with  the  fluid  emotionality  of  crowds,  they 
followed  the  fugleman's  lead,  and  cheered  loud  and 
long  and  waved  handkerchiefs  and  hats,  their  eyes  on 
the  platform  where  Jasper  sat  regarding  them  impas- 
sively. Then  the  great  audience  began  slowly  to  melt 
away. 

Mingled  motives  of  delicacy  and  consternation  kept 
the  crowd  on  the  platform  away  from  Jasper.  At  last  Lord 
John  Revelby,  after  a  hurried  talk  and  a  hand-shake  with 
Sparling,  approached,  and  Jasper  rose  to  his  feet. 

"  Mr.  Vellacot,  words  cannot  adequately  express  my 
regret  at  this  unhappy  occurrence." 

He  bowed  adieu.  Jasper  bowed  gravely.  The  poli- 
tician crossed  to  Alicia,  who  sat  rigid,  wearing  the  face 
of  stone  that  Jasper  had  seen  when  he  had  led  her  across 
the  lawn  from  the  spot  where  Bunny  lay  dead. 

u  Can  I  see  you  to  your  carriage,  Lady  Alicia  ?  " 
said  the  Under  Secretary. 

"  Thank  you,  "  she  replied  mechanically ;  "  Mr.  Vel- 
lacot is  looking  after  me." 

He  stared  polite  disapproval,  bade  her  good-night,  and 
made  a  courtly  and  diplomatic  exit. 

Jasper,  who  had  been  watching  the  dispersing  throng, 
beckoned  Cudby  to  his  side. 

"  See  Burke  ?  He  is  just  disappearing  through  that 
door.  His  friend  Wickens  has  given  him  the  slip.  Run 

336 


The  Usurper 

out  and  put  some  police  on  his  track  to  see  him  safely 
away.  He  is  half  drunk  as  it  is,  and  harm  may  happen 
to  him." 

"  I  '11  see  him  damned  first ! "   said  Cudby,  fiercely. 

But  Jasper  gripped  him  by  the  shoulder. 

"By  God,  Tom! — to-night,  at  any  rate,  you  shall 
obey  me — go!  I'll  wait  for  you  here." 

With  a  thrust  he  sent  the  little  man  staggering. 
And  Cudby  without  further  question  shot  away  in  quest 
of  Burke. 

By  this  time  the  platform  had  thinned.  Only  the 
Committee  and  a  few  ladies  remained.  Jasper  turned 
to  the  group  of  which  Sparling  was  the  centre. 

u  Gentlemen,"  said  he,  "  an  apology  from  me  would 
be  ironical.  I  must  beg  you  to  accept  the  resignation 
of  my  candidature." 

They  all  regarded  him  dismayed.  It  was  just  possible 
to  get  another  candidate  in  time.  A  wire  to  head- 
quarters would  bring  something  human  and  conservative 
down  in  the  morning.  But  it  was  entirely  impos- 
sible for  the  said  conservative  human  to  win  the  election. 
They  stumbled  about  in  the  dilemma  of  a  lost  seat  or  a 
discredited  candidate.  During  this  short  consultation 
one  or  two  had  desperately  proposed  the  retention  of 
Jasper.  Sparling  twirled  his  moustache  in  agitation.  As 
no  one  replied,  Jasper  continued. 

"You  honour  me  greatly  by  your  hesitation,"  said  he. 
"  But  after  what  has  happened  my  candidature  would 
be  a  grotesque  scandal.  To-morrow  my  name  will  be  a 
byword  throughout  the  Empire." 

22  337 


The  Usurper 

He  drew  Sparling  aside.  u  Spare  me  any  more  now. 
Get  them  away  quietly.  I  have  to  wait  here  for  my 
secretary.  If  any  man  ever  belonged  to  himself,  I  do 
to-night.  You  shall  have  my  formal  letter  of  resigna- 
tion to-morrow." 

"  Mr.  Vellacot,"  said  Sparling,  holding  out  his  hand, 
utwo  years  ago,  when  I  asked  you  to  contest  this  Bor- 
ough, I  said  that  you  were  a  man.  Allow  me  to  say 
it  again  to-night." 

The  great  doors  at  the  end  of  the  hall  clanged,  as 
the  last  straggler  left.  The  porter's  footsteps  echoed 
through  the  empty  building  as  he  went  to  close  the 
side  exits. 

Jasper  went  to  Alicia. 

"  I  will  ask  Major  Sparling  to  see  you  to  the  car- 
riage," he  said  tonelessly.  "  Pray  consider  it  entirely 
at  your  service." 

She  had  come  down  by  train;  but  they  had  planned 
to  drive  back  together  to  London  in  a  closed  landau 
which  he  had  hired  from  a  livery  stable. 

"  I  can  return  by  train,"  she  replied.  u  The  station  is 
not  far.  But  first  I  should  like  to  have  a  few  words 
with  you.  If  I  am  selfish,  refuse  me  without  hesita- 
tion, and  I  will  await  your  convenience,  for  you  have 
gone  through  a  great  ordeal  this  evening." 

He  made  one  of  his  awkward,  stiff  little  bows. 

"  I  hold  myself  absolutely  at  your  ladyship's  disposal," 
said  he. 

He  turned  away  to  be  caught  by  two  or  three  of  the 
Committee  hanging  back  behind  the  others,  who  were 

333 


The  Usurper 

disappearing  through  the  door  at  the  back  of  the  plat- 
form. 

"  Good-evening,  Mr.  Vellacot.  A  brave  fight.  —  I 
should  like  to  shake  you  by  the  hand,  sir,  before  we 
part." 

The  kindness  of  the  honest  souls  touched  him.  He 
shook  hands  with  them  at  the  door,  which  closed  after 
them.  Espying  the  porter  standing  at  the  foot  of  the 
platform  with  an  air  of  enquiry,  he  went  down  and 
gave  directions  to  the  man.  He  could  put  out  the 
lights  in  the  hall.  The  lady  and  himself  would  go 
into  the  Committee  Room  to  wait  for  his  secretary, 
Mr.  Cudby. 

A  small  fire  was  burning  in  the  grate  of  the  little 
room,  half  office,  half  cloak-room,  into  which  Jasper 
conducted  Alicia.  He  put  on  some  coals,  made  a  blaze, 
set  a  chair  for  her,  himself  remaining  standing. 

She  looked  at  the  fire,  not  at  him. 

"  Is  that  man's  story  true  ?  " 

"  Quite  true." 

u  And  you  are  not  —  my  cousin  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Who  are  you  ?  " 

"I  told  you  at  our  first  meeting.  A  nameless  man. 
All  the  facts  of  my  life  that  I  have  told  you  are  true. 
My  lies "  (she  winced  at  the  word)  u  have  been  those 
of  omission." 

Her  body  swayed  slightly  from  side  to  side,  as  she 
stared  in  front  of  her. 

"  It  is  difficult  to  realise  you  as  a  thief  and  an 
339 


The  Usurper 

impostor.     It  seems  as  if  no  human  being  is  real.     I 
regarded  you  as  the  impregnable  rock." 

"  I  told  you  I  walked  on  planks.  You  would  not  be- 
lieve me." 

"  I  scarcely  know  why  I  am  talking  to  you  now," 
she  said,  after  a  little  pause.  "  Perhaps  because  I  felt  I 
must  have  the  whole  story  from  your  own  lips.  You 
are  not  a  vulgar  charlatan.  You  are  a  great  man. 
Nothing  can  alter  that,  —  you  have  shown  it  to-night 
—  twice.  You  are  a  leader  of  men.  You  won  a  vic- 
tory, threw  it  away  and  accepted  ruin  and  disgrace.  — 
That  man  has  no  proofs? " 

"  None.     He  admitted  as  much." 

"  You  have  colossal  courage,"  she  said.  "  I  can't 
understand  you.  I  want  to.  I  want  to  see  what  part 
of  you  I  can  believe  in  —  whether  friendship  between 
us  is  still  possible.  I  can't  throw  you  out  of  my  life 
at  once.  The  threads  of  it  are  too  closely  woven  with 
yours  —  the  most  sacred  threads.  The  dead  binds  us. 
What  you  have  been  to  me  I  have  told  you.  Also,  I 
think  my  friendship  has  been  of  a  little  value  to  you  — 
why,  I  have  questioned  very  often  lately  —  and  I  would 
not  lightly  withdraw  it.  In  fact,  I  could  n't,  in  spite  of 
all.  .  .  .  Some  day,  perhaps,  you  will  tell  me  the  whole 
story.  But  the  essential  facts  seem  clear.  He  came  to 
you  destitute.  You  recognised  him  as  the  rightful  owner. 
You  thought  he  had  lost  his  memory.  Why  did  you 
keep  him  in  ignorance  ?  " 

"  Because,"  said  Jasper,  crushing  a  black  lump  of 
coal  on  the  fire  with  his  boot,  "because  the  interests  of 

340 


The  Usurper 

a  kingdom  sometimes  demand  that  the  usurper  shall  sac- 
rifice his  conscience  and  his  honour  for  its  welfare  — 
and  keep  the  real  wastrel  king  in  the  background." 

For  the  first  time  she  raised  her  eyes  to  him,  and 
they  were  very  wide  and  beseeching,  full  of  pain. 

"  Then  why  did  you  give  up  all  to-night  ?  " 

Then  suddenly,  like  the  swift,  magical  loosening  of 
snow  over  northern  plains  beneath  the  new  sunshine, 
the  cold  grip  that  had  kept  him  imperturbable,  unfeeling, 
icily  master  of  himself  and  of  his  destiny,  melted  away. 
In  his  heart  grew  flowers  and  green  corn,  and  the  laugh- 
ter of  life  sang  gladly.  About  him  the  air  was  fragrant 
with  all  the  springtimes  of  all  the  years.  Against  his 
cheek  whirred  the  down  of  invisible  wings. 

He  closed  his  eyes,  pressed  his  hands  against  them, 
dazed,  bewildered  at  the  transformation.  He  was 
free.  Free  at  last.  Free  from  the  lie's  intolerable 
weight. 

In  an  illuminating  flash  he  saw  the  one  pure,  absolute, 
uncontaminated  answer  to  her  question.  It  was  vitally, 
essentially  true.  His  surrender  had  been  the  only  pos- 
sible action  of  his  soul.  The  dispassionate,  unfearing 
avowal  had  been  forced  by  spiritual  currents  of  which, 
till  this  ecstatic  moment,  he  had  been  unaware.  Had 
not  the  lie  burned  into  his  soul  ?  Had  not  it  driven  him 
to  madness?  What  had  been  the  history  of  his  life 
from  Bunny's  death  till  now,  but  the  history  of  the  lie  ? 
And  had  not  God  given  him  the  sign  of  victory  which 
he  had  misinterpreted  ? 

So  he  stood  by  the  fire  in  the  cheerless  little  room, 


The  Usurper 

with  its  rows  of  lockers  and  piles  of  dusty  papers  and 
one  unshaded  jet  of  gas  flaring  noisily,  his  hands 
before  his  eyes,  a  disturbing  sphinx  to  the  woman  who 
questioned. 

She  rose,  touched  him  on  the  arm. 

"  I  must  know.    Why  did  you  give  up  all  to-night  ?  " 

Then  his  eyes  met  hers. 

"  Because  I  loved  you." 

She  reeled  back,  as  if  from  an  unexpected  blow.  It 
struck  her  in  mid  heart.  Nothing  remotely  like  this 
had  occurred  to  her  as  a  possible  answer  to  her  question. 
She  could  only  re-echo  his  words,  very  stupidly. 

"  I  loved  you  here  —  in  this  place  the  very  first 
moment  I  saw  you  —  before  we  spoke  together  — 
when  I  saw  you  drive  up  to  the  hospital  in  the  Dykes' 
carriage.  I  have  loved  you  every  instant  of  my  life 
since  then." 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  ? "  came  from  the  outer 
woman,  the  inmost  struggling  in  terrifying  depths. 

"  With  that  lie  in  my  heart  ?  "  cried  Jasper.  "  You 
ought  to  know." 

The  outer  woman  still  spoke.  "  Why  do  you  tell 
me  now  ? " 

"  I  am  free.  You  see  me  as  I  am.  There  are 
things  a  man  can  do  and  things  a  man  can't  do.  While 
the  lie  was  on  me  I  could  take  my  love  by  the  throat 
and  strangle  its  voice.  Now  I  can't." 

Instinctively  she  had  shrunk  back  several  paces  from 
him.  In  a  calmer  moment  he  would  have  been  stag- 
gered at  the  sight  of  her.  The  cool,  serene,  stately 

342 


The  Usurper 

woman  had  vanished  beneath  the  touch  of  a  finger  that 
had  never  laid  itself  before  upon  her.  She  had  become 
a  primitive  thing.  Her  breath  came  quickly  between 
stiffened  lips. 

She  had  found  at  last  the  fundamental  reality  of 
existence.  It  terrified  her.  She  strove  to  strangle  the 
new-born  thing  as  Jasper  had  striven.  Voices  within 
mocked  her.  The  seed  had  been  sown  since  their  first 
meeting.  She  had  always  loved  him. 

"If  you  had  loved  me,"  said  Jasper,  "I  should  not, 
perhaps,  have  told  you  now.  I  don't  know.  Anyhow 
I  have  eased  my  heart.  You  know  me  exactly  as  I  am. 
What  will  become  of  me  I  have  no  idea.  I  have  had 
no  time  to  think.  I  have  faith  in  God  —  He  will 
temper  the  wind  —  I  have  done  my  best.  I  have  had 
the  joy  of  loving  you.  It  has  been  all  a  wonder  and  a 
wild  desire.  And  I  have  had  the  joy  of  telling  you. 
You  will  not  grudge  it  to  me,  for  joys  have  not  been 
too  many  in  my  life.  If  I  have  forfeited  your  friend- 
ship by  telling  you  my  love,  I  can't  help  it.  Neither 
love  nor  friendship  is  possible  between  us.  I  am  the 
most  ruined  man  at  present  walking  the  earth,  and  I 
must  say  good-bye  to  you.  So  it  does  n't  matter." 

She  came  close  to  him.  "  It  does  matter,"  she  said 
in  a  queer  voice.  "  It  matters  all  the  world  to  me  —  I 
throw  our  friendship  away  for  ever  and  ever  and  ever. 
I  want  never  to  hear  of  it  again.  But  I  shall  love  you 
to  the  end  of  my  life." 

Then  the  door  leading  into  the  street  burst  open  and 
Cudby  appeared  on  the  threshold.  He  was  in  great 

343 


The  Usurper 

agitation,  so  great  that  he  did  not  appear  to  notice  the 
emotional  faces  of  the  two.     He  was  out  of  breath. 

"My  God,  Jasper — Burke —  I  could  n't  find  him 
at  first  —  then  I  came  upon  him.  He  has  been  nearly 
kicked  to  death.  I  've  had  him  taken  to  the  hospital. 
He  is  there  unconscious." 


344 


CHAPTER   XXV 

THAT  she  gave  herself  to  him  heart  and  soul  in  the 
hour  of  his  utter  disaster  will  always  be  Alicia's 
most  blessed  memory.  That  she  stood  by  his  side 
unfaltering  during  the  following  days  of  derision  and 
humiliation  and  suspense  will  be  her  title  to  accomplished 
womanhood,  whatever  chances  of  high  achievement  the 
years  may  bring.  Everyone  of  these  days  is  cut  clear 
in  imperishable  marble  in  her  mind,  and  they  are  her 
most  precious  possessions.  The  world  rang  with  the 
scandal.  A  thousand  wires  carried  it  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth;  a  thousand  pens  chronicled  it;  a  million 
tongues  voiced  it.  Alicia  regarded  the  world  with  serene 
and  defiant  eyes,  living  intensely.  The  man  was  a  man, 
and  he  was  the  man  for  her ;  and  that  was  the  begin- 
ning and  end  of  the  matter.  She  had  found  herself. 
She  knew  that  whatever  vain  things  still  lingered  in  her 
imperfect  humanity,  the  core  of  this  grand  emotion 
was  henceforward  the  vital  principle  of  her  being.  The 
awakened  woman  obeyed  her  sex  and  forbore  to  judge. 
Love  was  enough.  At  last  she  had  gained  the  indis- 
putable right  to  stay  by  the  side  of  a  man  in  life  or 
death.  Her  place  was  eternally  appointed.  Doom  or 
destiny,  she  accepted  it  in  passionate  gratitude. 

345 


The  Usurper 

Love  meant  faith,  glorious  faith  in  him.  She  no 
longer  questioned  what  in  him  she  could  trust.  He 
was  greater  in  his  downfall  than  she  had  ever  seen  him 
in  his  power.  Brave  and  strong,  he  faced  the  world 
during  those  bitter  days,  while  Burke  yet  lay  incapable 
of  affairs  in  the  hospital  at  North  Ham,  and  his  name 
was  a  byword  in  the  streets.  In  spite  of  complete 
catastrophe  in  which  he  had  lost  name  and  fame,  fortune 
and  power,  he  never  wore  the  air  of  a  defeated  man. 
He  had  been  ordained  to  great  things.  Alicia  remem- 
bered her  saying  ;  believed  it  now  with  sublime  fervour. 
They  were  much  together  and  he  spoke  his  inmost. 
She  knew  that  his  surrender  was  absolute.  He  would 
strain  all  nerves  of  mind  and  body  to  safeguard  the 
kingdom  he  was  resigning;  that  done,  he  would  dis- 
appear from  it  like  a  man  dead.  He  would  reserve 
nothing.  He  would  re-enter  upon  life  penniless,  bearing 
his  old,  half- forgotten  name.  And  he  would  build  up 
another  kingdom,  this  one  secure  and  lasting,  for  the 
happiness  of  men.  He  was  one  of  the  world's  con- 
querors. There  is  no  radiance  in  earth  or  sky  like  the 
faith  of  the  woman  who  loves  a  great  man  greatly. 

From  the  first  moment  when  they  had  rushed  from 
the  Committee  Room  to  the  hospital  and  Jasper  in  ter- 
rible anger  had  said  to  Cudby,  "  This  is  at  your  door !  " 
and  Cudby  had  replied  :  "  By  God,  it  is  not !  I  obeyed 
you  like  a  dog,  as  I  have  always  obeyed  you  and  always 
shall  obey  you !  "  she  had  felt  in  her  home  among  ele- 
mentals.  She  had  known  that  she  could  walk  beside 
him  in  whatever  path  he  trod. 

346 


The  Usurper 

She  cast  aside  convention.  She  put  her  life  unre- 
servedly into  his  hands.  She  loftily  scorned  Society's 
judgment  of  herself,  and  challenged  him  to  scorn  the 
obvious  imputation  that  he  was  profiting  by  a  weak 
woman's  generosity,  and  thereby  acting  the  dastard 
towards  her.  She  claimed  from  him  the  contempt  for 
petty  things  that  was  the  main  fibre  of  her  own  nobility. 
The  fears  and  prudences  that  rightly  restrained  lesser 
natures  were  not  made  for  them.  Both  had  gone 
through  the  furnace. 

So  one  evening  they  stood  before  each  other,  clean 
soul  to  soul. 

"  As  God  hears  me,"  said  Jasper,  "  if  I  looked  upon 
myself  as  a  beaten  man,  I  would  not  marry  you." 

"  As  God  hears  me,"  she  answered,  looking  into  his 
eyes,  "  I  ask  of  Him  no  higher  boon  than  to  be  your 
wife." 

He  took  her  into  his  arms  and  kissed  her  long  and 
tremulously.  It  was  their  first  kiss.  Her  face  was 
pale  and  her  eyes  were  closed  when  he  raised  his  head. 

"  For  better  or  worse,"  said  he. 

She  opened  her  eyes  and  smiled. 

"  No,  for  better.     A  million  times  better." 

Thus  had  they  vowed  themselves  to  each  other. 
Thenceforward  Alicia  inhabited  a  new  universe,  in 
which  the  old  order  of  things  had  changed.  Jasper's 
glory  was  her  glory;  his  disgrace  her  disgrace.  Amid 
the  hubbub  and  the  shrieking  around  his  fallen  throne, 
she  remained  the  fragrant,  cool-fingered  woman  she  had 
ever  been,  with  a  newer  flush  upon  a  younger  cheek 

347 


The  Usurper 

and  a  newer  tenderness  in  serene  eyes.  In  her  pride  she 
denied  her  door  to  no  one.  Friends  poured  in  upon  her 
full  of  eager  enquiries,  knowing  her  intimacy  with  the 
astonishing  hero  of  the  great  scandal.  To  all  she  an- 
nounced her  engagement.  Her  intimates  protested.  It 
was  madness.  It  was  social  ostracism.  No  one  would 
know  her.  Alicia  replied,  putting  on,  with  a  touch  of 
conscious  humour,  her  air  of  a  great  lady,  — 

"  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  being  known.  I  know 
other  people." 

"  You  will  not  be  received  at  Court." 

"  My  house  will  be  my  Court,"  smiled  Alicia,  think- 
ing of  the  new  kingdom  that  Jasper  was  to  win. 

Only  to  Elinor  Currey  did  she  open  her  heart  frankly, 
because  of  all  the  women  who  knew  her  Elinor  alone 
understood.  The  others  went  away  mystified  and  de- 
spairing. Even  Lady  Luxmoore  bewailed  her  folly  in 
secret.  The  old  Earl,  her  father,  wrote  her  letters  of 
fervent  piety  which  amounted  to  prayers  that  God  would 
restore  her  to  a  more  worldly  frame  of  mind.  Her  step- 
mother sent  tracts.  Both  urged  her  rank.  Alicia  re- 
plied that  the  man  she  loved  ranked  with  the  princes  of 
the  earth ;  the  honour  conferred  by  marriage  was  on  his 
side.  To  no  one  did  she  yield  an  inch,  and  after  the 
first  expostulation  no  one  dared  to  continue.  In  her  own 
proud  sharing  of  Jasper's  destiny,  she  fought  his  battles. 

But  to  him  she  was  utter  woman,  redeeming  in  un- 
imagined  measure  the  promise  of  rest  which  the  first 
gracious  sight  of  her  had  given  to  the  weary  man  over 
two  years  ago.  She  discovered  hidden  founts  of  tender- 

348 


The  Usurper 

ness  within  her,  at  whose  charm  upon  him  when  he 
drank  she  wondered  with  a  new  and  tremulous  joy. 
The  first  great  kiss  of  passion  had  unloosened  a  thou- 
sand instincts,  some  of  which  caused  her  delicious  fear. 
He  came  to  her  stern,  strained,  exhausted  by  the  efforts 
to  arrange  for  the  welfare  of  the  human  beings  depend- 
ent on  him  against  Burke' s  recovery ;  by  the  sense  of 
tremendous  responsibility;  by  the  planning  of  new 
schemes  to  win  back,  a  penniless  man,  his  place  in  the 
world  as  a  great  controller  of  men ;  and  at  a  touch  and 
a  tone  his  face  would  brighten  from  twilight  to  morning, 
and  then  from  morning  to  happy  noon,  and  he  would 
leave  her  with  the  sunshine  in  eyes  and  heart.  And  it 
was  she,  Alicia  Harden,  who  had  accomplished  the  mira- 
cle. On  those  nights  she  went  to  sleep  aglow  with  a 
wonderful  proud  happiness.  But  what  had  she  done 
with  her  womanhood  all  the  years  past  ?  It  was  her 
only  regret.  It  is  the  piteous  regret  of  every  woman  to 
whom  love  comes  late. 

Burke  was  injured  more  severely  than  had  been  at 
first  supposed.  The  surgeons  found  more  than  broken 
ribs  and  broken  skull.  The  hurts  that  he  had  received 
from  the  brute  gang  of  Jasper's  partisans,  who  had  be- 
gun by  hustling  him  and  then,  as  the  beast  passion  grew, 
had  kicked  him  on  body  and  head,  were  found  to  be 
internal.  But  of  this  Jasper  said  no  word  to  Alicia.  It 
was  enough  that  one  should  bear  the  horrible  suspense 
and  fight  down  the  murderous  hope  that  the  man  might 
die.  He  flung  the  evil  thing  out  of  his  heart,  but  he 
spared  her  a  like  struggle. 

349 


The  Usurper 

Thus  the  news  of  Burke's  death  came  to  Alicia  quite 
suddenly.  She  was  seated  at  luncheon  with  Lady 
Luxmoore  when  Jasper  called,  sending  down  an  urgent 
message.  She  met  him  in  the  drawing-room. 

u  I  have  come  at  once  to  tell  you  very  serious 
news,"  he  said  without  formal  greeting.  "  You  have  a 
right  to  know.  Burke  has  no  longer  any  claims  to  my 
estate." 

She  looked  at  him  searchingly;  then  guessed  the 
truth. 

u  Do  you  mean  —  he  is  dead  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Jasper,  very  gravely.  "  He  died  this 
morning." 

He  allowed  her  some  moments  to  recover  from  the 
shock.  Then  he  added  in  the  same  tone,  — 

"  If  his  claims  had  been  just,  I  should  have  had  his 
death  upon  my  conscience.  But  God  has  spared  me. 
The  man  was  not  Jasper  Vellacot." 

"  Not  Jasper  Vellacot  ? "  she  echoed.  The  quick 
colour  went  from  her  cheeks.  She  strove  to  realise 
what  his  words  implied.  The  man  was  an  impostor. 
The  man  was  dead. 

"  You  gave  up  all  —  made  this  terrible  sacrifice  for 
nothing  ?  "  she  cried  piteously. 

He  took  her  hand  and  kissed  it.  "  I  gained  infinitely 
more  from  Burke  than  I  surrendered  to  him,  my  dear. 
Let  us  never  forget  that.  Having  you,  there  is  noth- 
ing I  could  wish  undone.  I  may  be  presumptuous,  but 
I  seem  to  have  seen  God's  protecting  and  guiding  hand 
in  everything." 

350 


The  Usurper 

She  could  only  murmur  a  grateful  woman's  acquies- 
cence. There  was  a  short  silence.  Then  her  thoughts 
flew  back  to  the  bewildering  news  that  Jasper  had 
brought. 

"  Who  was  he  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  A  kinless  tramp  like  myself." 

"  But  I  don't  understand.  Where  was  or  is  the  real 
Jasper  Vellacot  ?  " 

"  Burke  had  killed  him  in  a  quarrel,  the  day  before  I 
came  across  him  in  the  bush." 

u  How  do  you  know  this  ?  " 

"He  confessed.  At  first  to  a  priest — it  seems  he 
had  been  bred  a  Roman  Catholic  —  and  then,  as  he 
knew  he  could  not  live,  he  confessed  publicly.  I  have 
it  in  writing,  signed  and  witnessed.  Let  us  sit  down, 
and  I  will  tell  you  the  whole  story." 

It  can  be  told  here  in  a  few  words.  Burke  had  killed 
in  a  quarrel  a  chance-met  mate,  and  partly  through  idea 
of  gain  and  partly  through  desire  to  remove  traces  of 
identification,  had  stripped  the  pockets  of  the  dead  man. 
When  Jasper  had  met  him  he  had  been  dogged  by  terror 
and  remorse.  The  illness  had  come  upon  him,  and 
Jasper  had  left  him  for  dead.  He  had  recovered,  crawled 
away,  and  fallen  in  with  human  creatures  in  whose  com- 
pany he  journeyed  far  from  the  scene  of  his  illness. 
When  he  had  met  Jasper  in  Gower  Street,  he  did  not 
recognise  him.  He  had  forgotten  their  three  days' 
companionship.  The  name  brought  back  no  definite 
memory.  He  had  a  vague  idea  that  somewhere  he  had 
heard  it,  once  before,  long  ago.  That  was  all.  From 

35  ' 


The  Usurper 

the  slaying  of  the  man  to  his  solitary  awakening  in  the 
remote  hut,  his  memories  were  dim.  The  conscious 
hours  had  been  a  nightmare  terror.  Jasper's  reference 
to  the  illness  in  the  bush  brought  back  his  fears.  Who 
was  this  man  ?  What  did  he  know  ?  From  that 
moment  he  stood  on  the  defensive.  Jasper's  magnifi- 
cent bounty  staggered  him.  He  was  cunning  enough 
to  see  that  it  did  not  proceed  from  pure  philanthropy. 
In  the  school  in  which  he  had  been  reared  men  gave  a 
hard  sixpennyworth  for  sixpence.  Jasper  was  playing 
some  deep  game,  connected  in  some  unguessable  way 
with  the  deed  that  his  soul  still  shuddered  at.  He 
feared  and  hated  Jasper  from  the  first.  There  was  no 
place  for  gratitude.  Then  he  was  not  slow  to  perceive 
that  he,  for  his  part,  had  some  mysterious  hold  upon  his 
benefactor.  His  insolences  were  condoned.  He  pre- 
sumed on  his  apparent  impunity,  claimed  greater  con- 
sideration than  he  received,  and  not  obtaining  it,  fed 
his  heart  with  hatred.  At  the  same  time  he  set  himself 
to  work  to  ferret  out  the  mystery.  The  discovery  of 
the  old  pocket-book  was  the  key.  It  brought  back  in 
a  flash  all  that  terror  and  madness  had  obscured.  The 
man  he  had  killed  had  spoken  of  this  piece  of  land,  on 
which  he  hoped  to  find  tin.  He  remembered  the  pocket- 
book.  He  remembered  the  name.  He  remembered  the 
moody  tramp  with  the  stranger.  He  remembered  the 
stranger's  face.  The  whole  of  Jasper's  course  of  action 
became  intelligible.  Then  he  felt  that  Jasper  had 
robbed  him,  that  this  boundless  wealth  was  rightly 
his.  He  burned  for  an  opportunity  of  asserting  his 

352 


The  Usurper 

claim.  Meanwhile  Wickens,  with  whom  at  first  he 
had  consorted  as  a  choice  boon  companion,  had  seen  in 
him  a  possible  tool  which  he  might  use  on  some  occa- 
sion, to  wreak  his  spite  against  Jasper.  He  gradually  got 
the  weak  and  drunken  man  under  his  influence,  and 
when  one  day  at  the  beginning  of  the  electoral  campaign 
Burke  told  him  the  story  of  Jasper's  wealth,  he  felt  that 
the  Lord  had  delivered  his  enemy  into  his  hands.  And 
Wickens  triumphed ;  but  the  poor  wretch  who  procured 
his  revenge  was  foully  done  to  death. 

When  Jasper  had  ended  the  miserable  story,  they 
spoke  long  and  earnestly  together,  awed  beneath  the 
clouding  wings  of  the  tragedy. 

"  You  can  enter  on  your  kingdom  again  with  a  free 
heart,  Jasper,"  she  said  at  last. 

u  The  free  heart  is  there,  yes,"  he  answered.  u  1 
have  nothing  to  hide  now  from  man  or  woman.  But 
the  kingdom  ? "  He  smiled  wistfully  at  her.  "  The 
death  of  the  man  to  whom  it  never  belonged  can't  make 
it  mine." 

"  It  can,"  she  said,  with  wet  eyelashes.  "  Don't  you 
see,  dear,  that  I  can  give  you  more  than  my  unworthy 
self?  I  can  give  the  kingdom  back  to  you." 

He  looked  at  her  with  a  little  puzzled  air  of  enquiry. 

"  Has  n't  it  struck  you  ?  "  she  asked,  taking  his 
hands  in  hers.  u  I  am  my  cousin  Jasper's  next  of 
kin.  I  inherit.  It  is  all  mine,  to  do  as  I  like  with. 
So  I  give  it  back  to  you  —  and  now  it  is  all  yours,  your 
very,  very  own.  No  one  on  earth  can  claim  it  from 
you." 

*3  353 


The  Usurper 

Before  Christmas  they  were  married.  The  great 
world  forgot  the  amazing  scandal  as  the  great  world 
with  its  multitudinous  interests  must  forget  individual 
incidents.  But  the  smaller  social  world  still  called  him 
adventurer,  and  held  up  shocked  hands  at  Lady  Alicia's 
folly.  Proudly  they  placed  themselves  beyond  the  pale, 
living  in  retirement,  devoting  their  lives  to  the  adminis- 
tration of  their  vast  wealth  for  the  good  of  humanity. 
Their  happiness  was  rooted  in  infinite  depths. 

Spring  passed,  and  summer  came,  and  in  August  they 
were  once  more  at  Greybrooke. 

One  golden  morning  she  joined  him  on  the  terrace 
where  he  was  smoking  his  pipe  and  looking  over  the 
lawn  which  seemed  to  be  haunted  with  memories.  She 
slid  her  arm  through  his. 

"  Shall  we  go,  dear  ?  " 

"  I  thought,  perhaps —  "  he  began,  with  hesitating 
delicacy. 

"  No,  dear.  You  and  I.  He  would  have  it  so,  if 
he  could  speak." 

They  went  across  the  lawn  and  through  the  shrub- 
bery ;  paused  for  a  moment  at  the  sheltered  nook  behind 
the  rhododendrons,  and  passed  through  the  small  gate  in 
the  box  hedge  into  the  kitchen  garden,  and  by  the  back 
entrance  reached  the  high  road.  A  few  moments'  walk 
brought  them  to  the  quiet  Gothic  church  that  brooded 
over  the  grey  shapes  and  green  hummocks  spread  around 
its  base.  And  so  they  came  to  the  white  marble  slab 
beneath  which  Bunny  lay.  She  stooped  to  place  on 
it  some  flowers  which  she  had  brought  with  her,  and 

354 


The  Usurper 

then  they  stood  hand  in  hand,  looking  down.  The 
inscription  was  very  simple.  The  name.  The  date  of 
his  death  —  exactly  a  year  ago.  His  age  —  twenty-five. 
A  line  from  "  Adonais." 

Tears  were  in  her  eyes,  and  tears  were  in  Jasper's; 
and  through  the  tears  they  looked  at  each  other. 

"  We  must  love  each  other  very,  very  dearly,  Jasper," 
she  said. 

For  answer  he  drew  her  close  to  him,  as  if  to  renew, 
by  the  dead  boy's  grave,  the  vows  he  had  taken  to  love 
and  cherish  her.  But  being  a  man  he  only  half  under- 
stood the  quivering  complexity  of  emotions  that  had 
expressed  itself  in  her  words.  By  the  quenching  of  this 
bright  spirit  she  had  been  brought  into  the  light.  Her 
awakening  had  been  purchased  by  the  greater  creature's 
eternal  sleep.  The  love  that  now  was  the  very  life 
within  her  had  come  only  as  a  heritage ;  a  heritage  of 
glory,  but  compounded  of  innumerable  tears  and  im- 
memorial pain ;  a  sacred  element  of  the  divine  to  be 
enshrined  in  their  holy  of  holies.  To  debase  it  in  the 
light  of  common  day  were  to  profane  the  dead.  Only 
thus,  by  loving  each  other  very  dearly,  did  the  woman 
feel  that  they  could  justify  themselves  before  God. 

They  walked  slowly  away  from  the  white  slab,  close 
together.  They  were  alone  in  the  peaceful  English 
churchyard.  The  noontide  vapours  shimmered  over 
the  green  grass  and  the  moss-grown  grave-stones.  It 
was  very  silent;  an  idyllic  hour.  Their  hearts  were 
too  full  for  speech,  and  irresistibly  their  lips  met. 

They  passed  along  the  south  side  of  the  little  Gothic 
355 


The  Usurper 

church,  and  as  they  turned  the  corner  of  the  western 
tower,  they  saw  enter  through  the  lych-gate  and  come 
up  the  path  towards  them,  an  erect  familiar  figure, 
dressed  in  black,  carrying  a  poor  little  bunch  of  flowers 
in  her  hand. 

Then  they  knew  that  their  idyll  was  a  hushed  tragedy. 
Only  such  endure. 


THE    END. 


356 


